A stainless steel Le Jour chronograph. This watch is very beautiful for a number of reasons; the clean, clear dial layout, amazing lume filled syringe hand set, the colour of the lume in the lume painted Arabic numerals, the case design. The watch is essentially a simple, three register chronograph. A rare watch that provides a lot to love for vintage watch aficionados.
Le Jour is one of those names that sits just off the main road of Swiss watch history. Not because the watches were minor, but because the brand often operated as a distributor and retailer, putting its name on Swiss-made pieces sold across Europe and the United States. In period accounts, Le Jour is repeatedly tied to two key relationships: Heuer, as a retail partner for chronographs, and Yema, as a distributor arrangement in the US that ran up to 1980.
That context matters, because it explains why vintage Le Jour can feel so familiar in the hand. During the 1970s–1980s, Heuer produced watches under private-label arrangements, and Le Jour was one of the names that benefited. In some cases the overlap goes beyond “inspired by”, with shared case architecture between models sold under the Le Jour name and watches in Heuer’s own catalogue (the Pasadena and Le Jour 7203 being an example). It is also why so many Le Jour chronographs of the era are powered by serious, serviceable workhorses from the Valjoux ecosystem, the same practical movements collectors already trust. This being a rare early chronograph, this example powered by the Venus movement, also beloved by brands such as Breitling at this time.
Like countless mid-century watch businesses, Le Jour was battered by the quartz crisis and the name went quiet for a long stretch. Modern Le Jour presents itself as a revival, with a brand story that places its origins earlier (mid-19th century) and frames today’s collections as a new chapter. Independent coverage of the relaunch era tends to emphasise a more straightforward reality: the name returned in the 2010s with contemporary tool-watch designs that nod to the brand’s vintage chronograph and diver language.
Early chronographs primarily functioned with two registers, featuring a 30-minute register at three o' clock and constant seconds at nine o'clock. The center sweep being used for timing seconds on the chronograph.
This early Le Jour is powered by an iconic chronograph movement. The Venus 178 is one of those mid-century chronograph movements that quietly set the standard for what a serious tool chronograph should feel like. Built by Fabrique d’Ébauches Vénus in Moutier, it sits within the Venus 175 family, a line introduced in the early 1940s and designed to be robust, accurate, and practical for brands that needed dependable chronograph ébauches. The 178 arrived around 1947 as a more capable evolution of the two-register 175/176, adding a 12-hour totaliser and establishing the balanced 3–6–9 sub-dial layout that collectors still chase today from watches like the Rolex Daytona.
Mechanically, the appeal is straightforward. The 178 is a hand-wound, column-wheel chronograph, and that architecture gives it the crisp, deliberate pusher feel that defines the best vintage chronographs. The movement’s core specifications read like a checklist of era-correct quality: 17 jewels, 18,000 vph, and roughly 45 hours of reserve, in a 14-ligne footprint that allowed brands to case it with real presence. Vénus substantially revised the broader 175 family around 1949, and those updates carried through the era when the 178 was at its peak, powering watches that were meant to be used rather than merely worn.
By around 1960, the Venus 178 was effectively retired, and the story shifts from invention to consolidation. In the mid-1960s, Vénus was folded into Valjoux as Ebauches SA rationalised Switzerland’s movement industry, and production of the remaining Vénus movements was halted, with the industry pivoting toward simpler, cam-operated chronographs (notably the Venus 188 lineage that became the Valjoux 7730 series). In other words, the 178 belongs to the closing chapter of widely available, Swiss-made column-wheel chronographs, which is precisely why it remains so compelling: it captures a moment when chronographs were built with an engineer’s logic and finished with a watchmaker’s restraint.
Despite the backdrop of a world at war, and perhaps spurred by the demand for more affordable chronographs, Vénus unveiled a groundbreaking new movement in 1948. The Vénus caliber 188 represented a revolution in movement design, abandoning the traditional column wheel in favor of a more innovative stamped cam system, akin to the Landeron calibers 47 and 48. While the Vénus movement retained a more conventional appearance and operation compared to the brand's earlier caliber 170, its increased size of 14 lignes in diameter hinted at the engineering prowess within.
Two years later, the engineers at Vénus added a calendar complication to the movement, and even produced a version boasting a captivating moon phase display. Sadly, the visionary behind this technical mastery, Paul Berret, passed away all too soon on November 22, 1949 at the age of just 61. Yet, in a mere quarter-century, Berret had guided Vénus to the pinnacle of respected complicated movement manufacturers. Just before his untimely demise, Berret oversaw the development of both the phenomenal caliber 190 and the revolutionary caliber 188 - a lasting legacy that cemented Vénus' reputation as a horological trailblazer.
The watch is presented in amazing condition overall. There is very little wear to the case anywhere. The thick case chamfers are clean throughout. the screw-back case the same. Even the original plexi crystal is clean. The watch is presented on a stainless steel Jb Champion, period correct, stainless steel bracelet that came with this watch when we purchased it. It is being sold on the bracelet, as it wears incredibly well. If the addition of a leather band is desired, we can oblige.
The crisp silver white dial is in superb condition overall. The outer ege of the dial is a blue printed Tachymeter. The font choices on the dial are also very attractive on the eye. Another point of interest is the printing of "France" at the foot of the dial for being a French made watch. The original lume is present throughout and what is fabulous is the mint green tone the lume has aged into. This is also found on some early Heuer watches from the same period. There is to much to love about this watch. Another endearing feature is the fact that all three sub-dial hands are different too. This is not a mistake, or a "Frankenstein". This is a design choice to help differentiate all three timing windows.
The watch is working well. The service history of the watch is unknown. There are no papers or box accompanying the watch.
Made in France, circa 1950's.
