It’s no secret that I’ve had my eye on the Black Bay 54 for a while. That crisp gilt dial, the compact size, the throwback feel. It all speaks to a very specific corner of my brain that’s been growing louder over the last couple of years. But the price makes me pause, (now at over $4,000). Paying over four grand for Tudor’s own tribute to their vintage Submariner feels like a commitment I’m not ready to make yet. Still, there are options out there if you want to test drive that kind of “feeling.” That’s where the Watchdives WD7922 comes in.
A reader recently tipped us off to the brand, one of those AliExpress outfits turning out affordable homages with decent specs. For $94 you get a fully spec’d tribute to the original 7922, complete with a sweep seconds quartz movement and a vintage-style bezel. At that price, curiosity takes over. I ordered one with the mindset that if it stinks, I’m out a tank of gas for the ol’ Land Cruiser. But if it lands, I get some valuable perspective before going full Tudor.
The watch this all references is the Tudor Submariner 7922. That’s the model from 1954, Tudor’s first dive watch, and a spiritual sibling to early Rolex Subs. No crown guards, gilt dial, and a clean simplicity that still feels relevant. It’s the design that laid the groundwork for just about every vintage-inspired diver we see today.
But bringing up homage watches can get messy fast. For some, it’s harmless enthusiasm. For others, it’s outright theft. Personally, I think the context matters. When a brand builds something like the Watchdives WD7922, there’s no pretense. No blatant counterfeiting or fake patina overload. Just a sincere, parts-forward attempt at channeling a classic, using off-the-shelf components to keep costs in check. Whether that works or not is still up for debate, but the intent feels more transparent than exploitative.
The case was the first thing I looked at, mostly because of how frustrated I’ve been in the past with high-polish flanks on watches like the Black Bay Fifty-Eight. That shine might look great on delivery day, but it picks up hairline scratches quicker than a set of car keys in your pocket. Watchdives, thankfully, went in a more forgiving direction. The sides of the case are brushed, and the finish feels both consistent and deliberate. There’s a slim polished chamfer that runs the length of the case edge, which breaks things up visually without being flashy.
Dimensions land at 37mm across the case, 38mm at the bezel, and a thickness just over 11mm including the slightly domed sapphire. Lug-to-lug is 45.5mm, which gives it enough length to avoid feeling stubby, while still sitting compactly on my wrist. The signed crown is on the smaller side at 6.3mm. I found some issues here, and had difficulty threading and screwing the crown in. That was disappointing but thankfully, with a quartz movement, I shouldn’t have to mess with this crown much. The caseback is nothing wild, just a fully brushed steel surface that wears flat and comfortable. For something under a hundred bucks, the execution here feels surprisingly refined.
The bezel might be my favorite element on the entire watch. It’s a coin edge, slightly raised above the midcase, and actually easier to grip than the flush-mounted one on the BB54. It rotates with a crisp, audible snap—120 clicks, solid alignment, no play. The aluminum insert uses silver numerals, which I didn’t expect to like, but they tone down the gilt accents just enough to avoid looking too costume-y. There’s also a polished ring beneath the bezel that catches the light nicely and mirrors that polished chamfer on the case. This case takes a proven shape and finishes it with just enough care to feel thoughtful. And for a watch built on homage, that restraint might be its best trait.
Dial on the Watchdives WD7922 sticks to the formula: matte black with gilt accents and snowflake hands. What’s nice is that nothing looks sloppy. The printing is crisp, the hands are well proportioned, and the markers are filled with bright C3 lume that actually holds up in the dark. The same goes for the bezel pip, which glows evenly with the rest of the dial. I went in expecting a dim flashlight effect, but was pleasantly wrong.
The choice of gold tone here is also more restrained than I feared. It leans warm but doesn’t veer into brass territory. That balance helps avoid the kind of faux-vintage aesthetic that can feel forced. This dial just looks like a new watch inspired by an old one, and that’s a smarter play.
One thing worth noting is the silver-on-black bezel insert. Tudor caught some flak for that design choice on the BB54, mostly because it didn’t match the gilt dial. I can see why that mismatch bugs people, but here, the silver printing helps cool down the warmer tones. It actually ties in better with the brushed steel case and bracelet, keeping the whole package a little more grounded.
The bracelet starts at 20mm and tapers down to 16mm, which helps give it some vintage proportion without sacrificing comfort. Most of the surfaces are brushed to match the case, but the sides of the links are polished, which breaks the cohesion a bit. The clasp, interestingly, goes back to brushing and even includes a sharp little polished bevel that gives it just enough pop. I’d rather see the brushing carry through the entire bracelet, but this isn’t a dealbreaker.
What’s more important is the fit. The end links snap into the case with no visible gaps, and the whole bracelet feels solid enough to punch above its price point. Sizing is done with push pins, which I don’t mind. I grew up on Seiko and these never gave me problems. The clasp is milled, closes with a confident snap, and gives you four micro-adjust points to work with. No on-the-fly adjustment here, but for a clasp this slim and clean, I’ll take it.
Strap lovers will probably have fun swapping this onto leather or NATO, especially given the 20mm lug width. Personally, I think it wears best on steel, which keeps the vintage dive feel intact. But it’s nice to have options that don’t require a drawer full of adapters or spring bar tools.
The movement in this Watchdives WD7922 is the Seiko VH31, one of those mecha-quartz types that delivers a smooth sweep without needing to wind or baby it. It ticks four times per second, which gives the illusion of mechanical fluidity, and honestly, that’s enough to scratch the itch. Setting it is no different than any basic quartz watch but again, the screw-down crown action gets in the way a bit. I wonder if others have experienced this.
Over nearly two weeks of wear, mine gained two seconds. Not a typo. Two seconds. That’s the kind of performance that makes you question why you ever tolerated the quirks of a misaligned automatic in the first place. I know accuracy isn’t the only story here, but it’s hard not to appreciate this kind of set-it-and-forget-it reliability, especially on a watch this affordable.
There’s no pretense about movement architecture or finishing here. No open caseback, no jeweled bridges, no mythologizing. And that honesty makes the VH31 feel like a good fit. It does the job, keeps things ticking smoothly, and lets the rest of the watch speak for itself. The one thing that gets me paranoid about these sweeping quartz movements is power efficiency. It will obviously drain the battery faster than a conventional quartz movement would. Something to keep in mind and part of me wants to keep the crown pulled out and movement hacked if I store the watch in the box for a long time.
If nothing else, the Watchdives WD7922 gave me a clearer picture of how a watch like the BB54 might wear in real life. That’s worth the price of entry alone. But what surprised me is how complete this feels on its own. Not as a placeholder or a stepping stone, but as a genuinely enjoyable watch that can hold its own.
Sure, the Watchdives WD7922 is an homage. It doesn’t hide that. But it also doesn’t feel like it’s trying to fool anyone. There’s a confidence here, however subtle, in just delivering solid quality at an absurdly low price. And when that’s done well, it deserves some space in the box.
Co-Founder & Senior Editor
Michael Peñate is an American writer, photographer, and podcaster based in Seattle, Washington. His work typically focuses on the passage of time and the tools we use to connect with that very journey. From aviation to music and travel, his interests span a multitude of disciplines that often intersect with the world of watches – and the obsessive culture behind collecting them.
It’s a watch such as this one that drives home the absurdly arrogant and avaricious overpricing fact that a lot, if not most, of the swiss branded watch industrial complex ascribes to! I understand that one can try to make the point between the costs associated with a quartz vs. mechanical movement, and other such minimizing justifications, but it doesn’t make up for the gulf of disparity anymore. The corruption that pervades the industry is only amplified by something like what’s being offered here. I applaud you bringing this to the attention of readers.