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ROLEX

ROLEX GMT EXCLAMATION MARK POINT DIAL

ROLEX EXCLAMATION MARK 5508

Regarding the ROLEX GMT EXCLAMATION it all started in the 1950s and throughout in the 60s when Rolex presented a new dial with a significant detail a dot under the 6 that looks like an exclamation mark and creating a new dial known as “ Rolex Exclamation Point Dial”.  The references that we can meet for ROLEX GMT EXCLAMATION are 1675 but also 5508 this amazing detail had made the watch extremely collective and popular among watch fanatics.

But why Rolex exclamation mark?

A dot under the six?  The exclamation point is the first official sign used by Rolex on “swiss” radium dial prints to show that the radiation has been adapted to new Atomic Energy Commission regulations  from end of the 1950’s till the beginning of 1960’s. The first dial that we meet in the history of Rolex with an exclamation mark goes back to 1962.

TECHNICAL CHARACTERISTICS/ DESCRIPTION FOR ROLEX GMT EXCLAMATION

REFERENCE: 5508

CIRCA:1962

DIMENSIONS: 38MM

CALIBER: 1530

MOVEMENT: AUTOMATIC

ROLEX GMT 5508 EXCLAMATION MARK
ROLEX GMT 5508 EXCLAMATION MARK

Want to learn more about Rolex History? Check out our article that describes how everything started.

Feel free to contact and share your thoughts with us your feedback is important as we are trying to create a unique interactive community for all the watch fanatics.

 

Author

  • Julien Favre

    Vallée de Joux, Switzerland — Contributing Editor, high complications & independent watchmaking
    Julien Favre learned the difference between good silence and bad silence before he was ten. Good silence was his grandfather at the bench in Le Sentier, loupe screwed into one eye, breathing shallow over a disassembled minute repeater. Bad silence was the moment a hairspring pinged off the peg-wood and disappeared into the floorboards. The family atelier — three generations of movement servicing for the maisons that carpet the Vallée de Joux — was never framed as a legacy Julien was expected to join. It simply was the house, the way weather is the house in a mountain valley.
    He resisted it, predictably. He studied economics in Lausanne and spent two years in Geneva watch retail, selling the objects rather than opening them. What pulled him back was not sentiment but frustration: he found he could describe why a movement was beautiful far better than anyone selling it could, because he had seen its underside. He started writing — first a blog dissecting finishing under macro photography, then commissioned work for the trade press, then features that treated escapements the way music critics treat a fugue.
    Julien now covers high complications, restoration, and the fragile economics of independent watchmaking for European and English-language titles. His reporting is unusually technical without being cold; he is as interested in the person hunched over the bench as in the tolerances they hold. He is skeptical of hype, allergic to press-release adjectives, and reliably the first to notice when a "revolutionary" caliber is a reworked ébauche.
    He still returns to the family workshop each winter to service a single pocket watch on his grandfather's bench — a discipline, he says, that keeps his writing honest. A critic who cannot do the thing risks worshipping it.
    Byline version: Julien Favre is a contributing editor covering high complications and independent watchmaking. He grew up in a movement-servicing atelier in the Vallée de Joux and still works the family bench each winter

    Author
Author

Vallée de Joux, Switzerland — Contributing Editor, high complications & independent watchmaking Julien Favre learned the difference between good silence and bad silence before he was ten. Good silence was his grandfather at the bench in Le Sentier, loupe screwed into one eye, breathing shallow over a disassembled minute repeater. Bad silence was the moment a hairspring pinged off the peg-wood and disappeared into the floorboards. The family atelier — three generations of movement servicing for the maisons that carpet the Vallée de Joux — was never framed as a legacy Julien was expected to join. It simply was the house, the way weather is the house in a mountain valley. He resisted it, predictably. He studied economics in Lausanne and spent two years in Geneva watch retail, selling the objects rather than opening them. What pulled him back was not sentiment but frustration: he found he could describe why a movement was beautiful far better than anyone selling it could, because he had seen its underside. He started writing — first a blog dissecting finishing under macro photography, then commissioned work for the trade press, then features that treated escapements the way music critics treat a fugue. Julien now covers high complications, restoration, and the fragile economics of independent watchmaking for European and English-language titles. His reporting is unusually technical without being cold; he is as interested in the person hunched over the bench as in the tolerances they hold. He is skeptical of hype, allergic to press-release adjectives, and reliably the first to notice when a "revolutionary" caliber is a reworked ébauche. He still returns to the family workshop each winter to service a single pocket watch on his grandfather's bench — a discipline, he says, that keeps his writing honest. A critic who cannot do the thing risks worshipping it. Byline version: Julien Favre is a contributing editor covering high complications and independent watchmaking. He grew up in a movement-servicing atelier in the Vallée de Joux and still works the family bench each winter

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