Few topics in horology trigger more heated arguments than the subject of watch modifications. To some, the practice of modding is a creative playground where enthusiasts can reshape a watch into something truly personal, whether it’s swapping a dial, changing hands, or building an entire “Frankenwatch” from spare parts. For these collectors, mods are an art form, a way of taking a canvas provided by a brand and reinterpreting it through their own imagination. It’s an expression of individuality, of refusing to accept a watch as a finished product dictated solely by corporate design teams. To others, however, mods represent something more troubling. They blur the boundary between what is authentic and what is deceptive, often leaving newcomers—and sometimes even seasoned collectors—wondering whether they are looking at a harmless custom piece or a cleverly disguised counterfeit. This clash of perspectives has given rise to one of the most polarising debates in the modern watch community.

What makes the debate so charged is that it cuts to the very heart of why people wear watches in the first place. For some, a watch is about heritage and the integrity of its manufacture. Every component, from the smallest screw to the dial itself, represents a chain of tradition and craftsmanship. To alter that is, in their view, to erase the authenticity that gives the watch its soul. For others, authenticity lies not in strict adherence to original form but in the freedom to adapt a watch to fit one’s own identity. After all, cars are modified, guitars are customised, and clothes are tailored—so why should watches be immune from such treatment? This tension between purists and individualists is what makes mods both fascinating and divisive: they challenge our collective understanding of what it means for a watch to be “real.”

The trouble is that mods don’t exist in a vacuum. The same techniques that allow someone to create a fun, imaginative Seiko mod also make it possible for others to pass off altered or “Franken” watches as genuine pieces, often at the expense of unsuspecting buyers. This is where the debate turns ethical. Is a modified watch acceptable as long as it is presented honestly, with no attempt to deceive? Or does the very act of alteration inherently diminish the integrity of the piece, regardless of intent? Collectors can argue endlessly over where that line should be drawn, but what is undeniable is that mods force us to question not only the watch itself but the values of the community surrounding it.

In exploring the world of modifications, we find ourselves delving into more than just bezels and dials. We uncover questions of authenticity, trust, creativity, and even status. A mod can be a joyful experiment that keeps a hobby vibrant, or it can be a tool of deception that undermines confidence in the market. Between these extremes lies a spectrum that reflects the diversity of watch collectors themselves. To confront the truth about mods is to acknowledge both the artistry and the controversy they embody—an uncomfortable but necessary conversation in a community built on passion, tradition, and time itself.