Piaget Protocole Lapis Tapestry

If Piaget in the 1970s was all about gold, glamour, and thinness, the Protocole was its swaggering, well-tailored proof. It was a design playground for the brand — dozens of variations in metals, dials, and sizes — but every so often, a piece like this would step onto the stage and remind everyone why Piaget wasn’t just making watches, it was making statements.

Here, the statement is in lapis lazuli, cut into precise panels to frame a vertical gold tapestry center that mirrors the case’s own ribbed facade. Look closely and you’ll see the lapis isn’t some bland wash of blue; it’s alive with tiny flecks of natural gold and subtle shifts in tone, making this dial one of one in the truest sense. That kind of individuality means you’re not just buying a Piaget, you’re buying this Piaget.

The geometry is deliberate. The rectangular case in 18K yellow gold has its corners cut, a design choice echoed in the shape of the central dial section — a quiet little nod to continuity that most brands would skip. Sword-style hands add a certain sharpness to the otherwise cool, refined layout, as if to say, “Yes, I can be polite, but I can also cut.”

Inside beats Piaget’s legendary 9P2 manual-wound movement — one of the thinnest mechanical movements of its time. Piaget gets plenty of love for gold, but its horological engineering deserves just as much applause.

And then there’s the condition: crisp, well-defined edges that betray little to no polishing, original 18K Piaget buckle, and a case shape that, thanks to its angular honesty, would rat out a sloppy refinish in an instant. It comes with its original box and red hang tag — because some things are better when they’re complete.

It’s a watch that wears its era with pride — the vertical ribbing echoes 70s/80s Mercedes-Benz grilles, the blue-and-gold pairing wouldn’t look out of place next to a two-tone Datejust, and yet, it still feels oddly current. It’s serious enough for a suit, interesting enough for the weekend, and rare enough that spotting another one in the wild would be like finding a vintage Piaget ad in a dentist’s waiting room — possible, but improbable.