Orient Tristar Review: Second Wind

People have had some decidedly mixed feelings about Seiko in the past few years. Since 2019 they've discontinued the SKX, the SARB017 and the SARB033/035. Many also suspect that the sun is setting on the pre-5KX Seiko 5s, like the SNK809 and the SNKL23, given that Seiko's SRPD/E 5s have the superior 4R36 as opposed to the older 7S26. While many enjoy the watches Seiko has introduced since 2019, like the SNJ Arnie reissues, the SRPE03 King Turtle and the SRPG Land Tortoises, countless watch collectors lament the loss of Seiko's affordable watches (apart from Hodinkee, who love parking their $90k Toyota Land Cruisers near Moab for wrist shot backgrounds of their SPB237s and SLA043s).

Although it's pretty damn cliche to say it, there is a saving grace: Orient. Owned by Seiko Epson (Seiko’s parent company), Orient is another Japanese watchmaker that has been making timepieces since the 50s (or 1901, depending on how pedantic you wanna get). Although not nearly as prevalent in pop culture as their parent company, Orient has been making primarily mechanical watches for most of its existence, although they also have dabbled in quartz watches over the decades, including a digital watch with a musical chime that was advertised in a commercial with Lupin III and his bumbling nemesis Inspector Zenigata dancing. All of their timepieces also have fully in-house movements, which is pretty impressive considering their status as more of an enthusiast brand rather than a powerhouse like Seiko, Citizen or even the Swatch Group. Their movements are so good, in fact, that many Aliexpress brands have started using Orient calibers in place of the ubiquitous NH35 in their watches, due to a movement shortage that’s been going on because of some disease that’s been going around or something. I also knew about both Orient and Vostok well before I got into watch collecting; the same uncle that gave me my Stuhrling also gave me a 2ER00002D “Orilex” back when I was a dumb 13 year old (which I’ve been meaning to get serviced), and my dad gave my brother a classic Komandirskie when he was about 11.

Today they're primarily known for making the SKX's spiritual successor, the Kamasu, an automatic dive watch with 200m of water resistance, a sapphire crystal, and great wearing dimensions. Although I'd really like to get one, I unfortunately haven't gotten my hands on a Kamasu just yet; besides, I'm talking about another one of Orient's cornerstone watches: the Tristar, Orient's answer to the Seiko 5 line.

The Tristar was first introduced during the Quartz Crisis in the 70s. Although it might seem pretty stupid and quite strange for a Japanese brand to be releasing a mechanical watch when cheap Asian quartz watches were fucking up the Swiss watch industry's market share, Orient actually made it to solve a problem millions of people faced. You see, back in the 70s and 80s, lots of people in developing countries either didn't have access to or couldn't afford quartz watches and their respective batteries. This was mostly because of Moore's Law; they didn't become quite cheap enough for those living in poverty-stricken countries to afford yet. Orient figured the inhabitants of these regions needed a cheap, dependable watch that didn't need batteries and could go without a service for years or potentially decades (or ever). As such, the Tristar was designed to be affordable yet tough enough to withstand years of daily use in a variety of professions, and daily life in general. The Tristar subsequently became pretty popular in the developing parts of the world due to its low price point and workhorse movement. Even today, lots of vintage Tristars you find online have an Arabic day wheel.

In spite of their parent company going upmarket and canning their cheapest watch lines, Orient hasn't followed suit. You can buy a Tristar for under $100, with most variants ranging from about $75 to $99. The Tristar I have, the FAB00009L, originally cost me $78.99 from eBay, although Amazon is currently selling it for $95.97.

For $80 (or $95), you get quite a bit of watch for your money. The whole watch-including the bracelet-is made out of stainless steel, which is brushed to a surprisingly good standard. You also get a pretty decent mineral crystal, along with a screw-down caseback, and as I mentioned earlier, a fully mechanical automatic-winding movement, complete with a day/date function, just like a Seiko 5. I personally think the best part of this Tristar is the dial; it has a brilliant blue linen dial that looks fantastic and deliciously retro, which combines well with the applied gold logo, hands and indices. The Tristar also comes with lumed hour and minute hands along with small lume pips at every hour except for 3 (which is occupied by the day/date function). The lume lasts for a reasonable amount of time, although it’s no Prospex (or rather, M-Force). All Tristars have 30m of water resistance, which is perfectly fine for this style of watch.

Despite that the times are changing and technology is advancing, Orient still puts an old but still virile workhorse inside of the Tristar: the Caliber F4902. I can’t find much about this movement, apart from the fact that it has 21 jewels (as indicated on the dial), and that it comes with a day/date function. The F4902, much like the 7S26, doesn’t hack or handwind, meaning you’ll have to make some very suggestive motions in order to actually get it going if you haven’t worn it in a couple days. Despite the low price, the Tristar feels far better to set than the Stuhrling I reviewed; there’s quite a bit of weight to setting the time, although it obviously doesn’t feel like you’re trying to twist a steel rod when you manipulate the push-pull crown.

Coming in at a very classic 37.5mm in diameter, 11mm thick, and 42mm long, the Tristar is what a department store employee would call a “woman’s watch”; in other words, it fits great on all wrist sizes, even the dimensionally challenged. Because of its size it can very easily fit under a sleeve, and because of its versatile looks, it could easily be worn as a dress piece that has a bit of personality. I even wore my Tristar to my cousin’s wedding last fall, and it didn’t look out of place when I paired it with a (admittedly pretty shitty) lizard grain leather strap.

Speaking of the strap-or rather, the stock bracelet-it’s pretty bad. It’s a pin and collar monstrosity that rivals Vostok in its vile cheapness. It’s rattly, it pulls your hairs, and it’s a serious pain in one’s posterior to size; @benswatchclub even warped one of the links on his FAB00006B9. You might reckon that you could solve this problem by putting one of your 18mm or 20mm straps on it as soon as you get it. But alas, Orient gave the Tristar 19mm lugs for basically no reason, meaning that you basically have to invest in whole new straps just for your Tristar, unless you have some vintage watches with fucked lug sizes. I bought a grayish-brown Barton leather strap for it, which makes the watch feel much better.

The Orient Tristar is truly something special. Most people outside of this weird hobby think that all watches are either like a Casio F91w, a Rolex Submariner, or an Apple Watch. But much like its cousin, the Seiko 5, the Tristar gives you a fully mechanical, very versatile watch from a respected watchmaker for a pretty reasonable amount of money. And unlike a lot of the older Seiko 5s, which are bound to shoot up in price after all the dead stock 7S26s are cased into SNK809s, it seems that Orient is sticking with the Tristar for the foreseeable future. It is fitting, then, that the first three characters of the Tristar’s serial number accurately describe its nature.