If you’re a regular visitor and follow my reviews, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve mentioned the LeJour brand before. Usually, I brought it up when trying to evaluate the price of some other brand’s watch—since LeJour often stood out as one of the most affordable options among Swiss-made timepieces.
However, my references to LeJour were, to be fair, at least somewhat unproven—or let’s say partially unfair—because I had never actually owned one of their watches. That changed when I came across the latest version of the LeJour Rally Monte Carlo chronograph at seriouswatches.com. The model with the red dial and black sub-dials immediately caught my attention, and I decided it was finally time to purchase a LeJour and properly evaluate what I had been referring to all along.
I don’t have any in-depth knowledge about the company beyond the information available on their official web page. The collection is quite interesting and includes a variety of styles: pilot watches, divers, chronographs, and more. All the models I’ve looked into use Sellita movements—which, in my opinion, is a solid starting point.
By “looked into,” I mean that over the years, several LeJour watches made it onto my bucket list—some even into my shopping cart. But for various reasons, I never completed the purchase. That is, until I saw the red Rally Monte Carlo chronograph, reference LJ-RMC-006.So, let’s take a look at my very first LeJour watch.
It’s actually a bit strange that I chose this model, considering that its listed diameter is just 40 mm—which is generally the smallest size I’m willing to go for. Still, I figured that, being a chronograph, the pushers and crown would make the watch appear larger on the wrist. Well, I almost made a big mistake.
The "40 mm" diameter is a bit misleading—it’s measured from the crown guard to the bumper on the opposite side of the case. The black bezel, which defines the watch’s visible face, measures only 37 mm! Fortunately, the case has a kind of barrel shape, and the lug-to-lug distance is a generous 48 mm. Altogether, the watch both wears and feels significantly larger than its listed 40 mm diameter would suggest.
I’ve jumped ahead with the size details—let me now go back to the beginning.
The first impression of a watch is always influenced—perhaps unfairly—by the packaging. In this case, I have no complaints at all. The watch comes in a well-made wooden box, nicely finished both outside and inside. The warranty card is simple, and the package also includes a cleaning cloth. All in all, it’s quite good—and certainly better than expected given the price point.
Then I moved on to the part that was the main reason for my decision to make the purchase—the dial. And once again, I was positively surprised.
The horizontal lines across the dial are very well executed and give it a dynamic, attractive look. The black sub-dials, featuring concentric circles, create a striking visual contrast with the main dial surface. The day and date windows are large and easily legible—even for older or visually impaired eyes. Above and below the windows, there’s the standard printed text, while at the bottom of the dial there’s just a discreet “Swiss Made.”
Since the hours and minutes are marked only with indexes and small hash marks, the dial overall looks very clean—not cluttered at all—despite the relatively small surface area. I must say, I like it. The index markers are sharply executed, and all the hands are designed in a similar style to the markers—no eccentric shapes or flashy colors. Altogether, it’s a very purist design.
The fixed, IP-coated black steel bezel with brushed finishing adds a nice visual touch to the watch’s overall appearance. To be completely honest, this bezel feels like a clever shortcut—visually enhancing the watch while also keeping production costs lower. However, for a chronograph that's clearly inspired by car racing, it's quite surprising that there’s no rotating bezel or even a fixed tachymeter scale.
We’ve seen countless chronographs featuring such bezels even when they serve no real purpose—and yet here, where a tachymeter would make perfect sense, the designers chose to leave it out. What makes it even more puzzling is that LeJour’s earlier chronograph models (like the Roadster) did feature tachymeter bezels, albeit fixed ones. My guess is that the choice for a plain, unmarked fixed bezel on this model has to do with its non-round, slightly tonneau-shaped case.
I also decided to take a closer look at the printed markings on the sub-dials, since the concentric circles could potentially interfere with legibility. As you can see in the pictures below, there are no issues at all. The designers smartly avoided placing horizontal lines in the areas where text is printed (like "LeJour," "Chronograph Automatic," or "Swiss Made"). Since these lines are quite deep—much deeper than the circles on the totalizers—the text would have looked distorted or messy. A clever design choice, indeed.
The crown is signed and screw-down, as are both chronograph pushers. Thanks to this construction, the watch offers a water resistance of 100 meters. It’s worth noting, however, that the chronograph pushers only work properly when they are fully unscrewed. If you unscrew them only partially, you can still press the pusher and even hear the “click” as if the chronograph has started—but nothing actually happens. So, the chronograph functions only when the pushers are completely unscrewed.
The caseback is where LeJour chose to reveal all the technical details about the watch. The most noticeable feature is the display window, which is covered by a transparent Rally Monte Carlo sticker showing two racing cars and a checkered flag. Thankfully, the designers resisted the temptation to place such imagery on the dial!
The sticker is transparent, so you can still see the Sellita SW500 movement underneath—complete with a LeJour-signed rotor—but the view is somewhat obscured. Surrounding the display glass, on the metal part of the caseback, you’ll find engraved specifications: stainless steel case, sapphire crystal with AR coating, 100-meter water resistance, reference number, and serial number.
After the initial inspection of all the details mentioned above, I was quite satisfied. It was finally time to adjust the bracelet and put the watch on my wrist. Unfortunately, this is where my enthusiasm began to fade—gradually, but steadily. Let me explain why.
Take a look at the picture of the bracelet from the side. Do you notice anything unusual?
First of all, all the links—right up to the end link—have removable pins. Since the bracelet tapers from 22 mm at the lugs to 18 mm at the clasp, you need to be very careful when removing links. Only the first few links are of equal size; the rest gradually narrow. So, you have to plan your adjustments wisely—removing the wrong links can make the bracelet look unbalanced or affect the fit.
The second strange thing is the construction of each individual link, which consists of two separate parts: a base and a “bridge.” Now, the concept itself isn’t unusual—what is unusual is that every link can be completely disassembled. Each link has two removable pins, and if you happen to remove the wrong ones in two consecutive links, you won’t be able to reassemble them. In other words, the links become incompatible and can't be reconnected properly.What is the purpose of this construction is unknown to me. Maybe the production is cheaper if both parts are removable.
The pins are held in place by tiny internal clamps. The problem is—you wouldn't know this unless you’ve already disassembled your first link. And if you’re unaware, it’s very easy to lose one of these small clamps. Once that happens, you’re in serious trouble, because without the clamp, the pin won’t stay in the link. So be very careful when resizing the bracelet. If you’re not experienced with bracelet adjustment, I strongly advise you not to attempt it yourself.
But let me be clear—everything I’ve mentioned so far isn’t even the main reason for my disappointment. That part is still to come.
First of all, even though the bracelet uses a butterfly clasp (which, by the way, is unsigned and unbranded), there are no half-links or micro-adjustments. If you're lucky, the bracelet will fit your wrist well. If not, you're stuck with a poor fit. In my case—on a good day—I can “survive” with three links removed, but generally that makes the bracelet just a bit too tight. Since the lugs are 9 mm long, adding one full link makes a noticeable difference. I ended up going with only two links removed, which results in a bracelet that’s simply too loose for comfortable daily wear.
But that’s still not the worst part.
The most disappointing aspect of the bracelet is the sharpness of the inner edges of the “bridge” components. It’s ironic, really—the bridges are polished (while the base parts are brushed), but the edge underneath each bridge is as sharp as a knife. When you run your finger along the bracelet from the case towards the clasp, everything feels smooth. But in the opposite direction, the bracelet catches and scratches your finger on every single bridge.
The outer edges of the links aren’t particularly well-finished either. They’re smoother than the bridge edges, but still far from what I would call acceptable.
The end link doesn’t fit the case perfectly either. There’s a small step between the lug and the end link, and the lugs themselves are slightly longer than the end link. What’s even more annoying is that the lugs are also quite sharp—so once again, you feel that uncomfortable scratching sensation on your finger when it passes over the end link.
It’s interesting, because the case edges in general are quite well finished—except for that specific inner part of the lugs. But since the end link doesn’t fully cover this section, the flaw becomes quite noticeable. In short, this watch desperately needs a serious upgrade in final polishing—both on the case and especially on the bracelet.
I’m sorry to say it, but the bracelet feels like something you'd find on a cheap Chinese watch. And I do mean cheap Chinese, because I’ve seen many entry-level Chinese watches with noticeably better bracelet finishing than this.
In the photos below, you can see how the watch looks on my wrist. As you can tell, the bracelet is slightly too long, which causes the watch to “dance” around on the wrist. Since I wasn’t satisfied with how it wore, I also tried the watch on a leather strap.
Unfortunately, the bracelet doesn’t feature quick-release spring bars, and removing it—especially putting it back on—is not exactly straightforward.
The watch fits better on a leather strap, but in the end I decided to put the bracelet back on. I might eventually go for a black strap with red stitching, but at the moment, I don’t have one in 22 mm width at home.
After the disappointment with the bracelet, let’s return to some of the watch’s highlights.
I must praise the Luminova—it’s simply excellent. Very bright, and it remains visible for a long time. I appreciate that the luminous material is used only where it’s needed: on the index markers and the hands. The result is a very clear and legible display in low-light conditions.
I also have to highlight the performance of the SW500 movement. It’s been calibrated very well—my watch runs within +4 seconds per day, and the positional variation is practically non-existent. Very impressive.
I’ve often said that LeJour is one of the cheapest Swiss-made brands on the market. Well, this watch is not exactly cheap. The base price in the EU is around €1,500, although most sellers offer some form of discount. It’s generally the most expensive model in LeJour’s collection—for example, the Roadster chronograph is about €200 cheaper.
So the main question is, of course: Is it worth it?
Honestly, I can’t overlook the poor finishing on the inner lug edges and the sharp, uncomfortable bracelet. With just a bit more care and attention to those finishing details, this watch could’ve been a perfect example—a benchmark even—of how a good Swiss-made watch can still be affordable today.
It’s a pity that LeJour missed the mark on such small, yet crucial, elements. Because in doing so, they’ve undermined what could have been a truly outstanding timepiece.
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The AP bracelet and finishing is also rough and sharp. It’s part of the design. Smoothing out these parts is not difficult or costly.