By Jovan Krstevski
Not long ago, I had the Maurice Lacroix Aikon Automatic Skeleton in for a hands-on review; a watch that frankly held its own in a sea of openworked dial contenders. Now here I am, wrist deep in its brawnier sibling the Aikon Automatic Titanium Chronograph Ref. AI6038-TT032-530-1. This isn’t just a design exercise stretched into a chronograph case. No, this one packs some serious wrist presence and comes dressed in full Grade 5 titanium, which is no small feat considering the kind of heft most chronos bring to the table. It’s bold. It’s muscular. But it’s also surprisingly nimble for something that reads 44 mm across. From the jump, you can tell this watch means business; not with unnecessary flamboyance, but with quiet, steely competence. And frankly, that’s much more than my speed.
Let’s talk about that case first, because it’s really the heart of the physical experience. Measuring 44mm in diameter and 15 mm in height, it’s unapologetically large. That being said, the use of Grade 5 titanium is what tips the scale in its favor… literally. It feels light without coming off flimsy, there’s a certain satisfaction in how the weight sits across the wrist and gives this watch the feel of a precision instrument rather than a wrist anchor. I’ve worn steel chronographs smaller than this that felt like they were dragging my arm toward the floor. The finishing is a bit of a game of contrasts; the sandblasted surfaces lend a matte utilitarian vibe while the signature polished “claws” on the bezel catch just enough light to stop things from getting too toolish. Ergonomically, I was expecting some awkwardness, but again, the Aikon surprised me. It sits flush, wears flat and doesn’t pull at wrist hair like some integrated cases do, like some of those cases that ride up your wrist bone like a stubborn sleeve, not the case here. The crown is screwed down, the crystal is sapphire with double anti-reflective coating on both sides and there’s an open sapphire back. Between that and the 200m water resistance, you’re looking at a sports chrono that can actually take a hit or two without a whimper.
The dial is where things take an unexpected, but not an unwelcome turn. It has the gold toned square motif, a sort of embossed geometric pattern that adds a touch of architectural modernism to the layout and it has a sunray brushing that plays beautifully against the three snailed subdials. They’re slightly recessed, sharply contrasted and arranged in the classic 6-9-12 layout; 30-minute counter at 12, 12-hour totalizer at 6 and running seconds at 9. They’re either blue or black depending on the reference, but both versions nail the legibility bit. The applied polished rhodium indices are razor sharp and generously filled with Super-LumiNova, as are the hour and minute hands. Low light readability is genuinely solid. Dial has that stacked deck visual effect that makes it more interesting the longer you look at it. The day-date display at 3 o’clock integrates into the symmetry with admirable restraint. It doesn’t interrupt the flow; if anything, it balances the dial. What struck me most though, is how the mix of textures, raised pattern, sunburst base and those snailing counters give the whole dial a bit of architectural depth. It feels muscular, masculine and very much “of the now” without leaning into gimmickry.
The bracelet is classic Aikon, integrated five-link construction in titanium with a satin finish base and polished intermediate links that flow seamlessly into the case. There’s a fluidity to how it connects to the case and once again, titanium saves the day when it comes to weight. It hugs the wrist rather than fights it, which I’m happy to report is not something I say often about integrated bracelets on watches this big. The butterfly clasp is snug, closes with a satisfying click and Maurice Lacroix’s Easy-Change system lets you pop on a strap in seconds flat if you’re in the mood to switch things up. In terms of longevity, this titanium bracelet should age gracefully unlike the steel variety. No shiny surfaces waiting to get scuffed up in the first week. That satin sheen is a clever choice.
Powering the whole operation is the ML112 movement; a known quantity based on the tried and true ETA 7750 and its near-clone, the Sellita SW500. We’re talking 25 jewels, 4 Hz beat rate and a dependable 48 hours of juice. Maurice Lacroix has added some nice finishing touches here, with circular graining on the bridges and Geneva stripes on the rotor, all visible through the sapphire caseback. Is it haute horlogerie? No. But is it dependable, rugged and serviceable just about anywhere on Earth? Absolutely. And for a watch in this category, I’d take bulletproof over boutique every day of the week. The chronograph pushers have that familiar, tactile snap you expect from a 7750 family movement. Everything works with mechanical certainty; no mushy in-betweens.
Now, let’s get one thing straight. This isn’t a minimalist’s chronograph. It’s thick, it’s architectural and it announces itself. But it never feels bloated. That’s an important distinction. On the wrist, it leans sporty in character, though never crosses into anything unruly or half baked. There’s restraint in the way it wears. Refined but not precious. You could wear it with a jacket sure, but I suspect it’d feel more at home peeking out from under a cuff on the sidelines of a weekend match or while navigating city streets on a brisk autumn morning. Titanium’s hypoallergenic nature and lightweight feel make it an easy all day companion; no wrist fatigue, no sticky hot spots.
A few considerations, of course. At 15 mm thick, it’s no disappearing act under a shirt cuff. If you’re someone who leans dressy or wants their chronograph to vanish into a slim wrist stack, this ain’t your piece. Also, the chronograph pushers aren’t meant for use underwater, so while 200 meters of water resistance is great, you’re not timing laps in the pool with it.
What we have here is a big, confident, good looking chunk of watch that doesn’t overpromise. It’s for someone who knows their way around a movement reference or two, who understands what titanium brings to the table and who values comfort as much as curb appeal. It’s sporty enough for weekends, sharp enough for work and technical enough to hold its own at any horology minded meet-up.
And what’s this titanium brute going to cost you? A cool CHF 4,150. Not exactly pocket change, but when you factor in the full Grade 5 titanium build, integrated bracelet, solid chronograph movement and that 200m water resistance, it shapes up to be a solid value package; especially compared to other big brand chronos that don’t bring nearly as much to the party.
In the closing, the Aikon Automatic Titanium Chronograph punches far above its weight class. It’s robust, stylish, and refreshingly wearable for its size. It’s also got enough quirks and character to keep it interesting over the long haul. Between this and the Skeleton I recently reviewed, it’s clear Maurice Lacroix isn’t just churning out filler. They’re building out the Aikon range with purpose and precision, and for folks like me who have spent more than a few decades deep in the trenches of watch collecting, that’s something you pick up on immediately. If you’re looking to add a chronograph that doesn’t just follow the script, this might just be your next move.
