Two Weeks With The Rolex Oyster Perpetual 36 “Pistachio”

I have always believed that the Rolex Oyster Perpetual is best enjoyed when you stop treating it like a precious object and start treating it like a companion. With ongoing wait lists and the like, getting one new from the Rolex AD has proven tricky. Luckily, Rolex recently loaned me the new Oyster Perpetual 36mm with a pistachio-green dial for a couple of weeks. Here are some thoughts.

It isn’t the brand’s loudest watch, its most technically advanced, nor its most historically significant. However, it does something no other Rolex quite manages. I think this is probably the easiest Rolex to live with in the entire lineup.

The Rolex Oyster Perpetual

Now, this isn’t the first occasion I’ve spent a considerable amount of time with a Rolex Oyster Perpetual. I’m the lucky owner of a vintage reference 1002. My father also owned a Datejust 41 with a black dial for several years. But I don’t feel comfortable taking my vintage Oyster Perpetual swimming, and the 41mm case size of my father’s former watch never resonated with me. It just felt a little large for an Oyster case.

Yes, these are first-world problems, but it pays to be picky in this hobby. I’m thankful that I have tried on different sizes and know what I like. The 34mm and 36mm case sizes are where it’s at for me.

Why the Oyster Perpetual 36 is so good

The Rolex Oyster Perpetual 36 slips into your life without fanfare and refuses to leave. That truth came into sharp focus over the past two weeks, when I spent some very real time with the 36mm Oyster Perpetual with the so-called “pistachio” dial. And when I say “real time,” I don’t mean gentle desk-bound wear. I mean salt water, wetsuits, coffee stains, and sunscreen.

I took it free diving off the Sydney coastline, and I even slept in it. By the end of the fortnight, I realized why this is my favorite watch in the current Rolex lineup, albeit with the yellow dial. Let’s talk first about the pistachio dial, though, because that’s a big part of the reason this watch stands out.

An unusual but enchanting dial color

Rolex has been flirting with color for years now, but this pastel-green tone — somewhere between mint gelato and bleached seaweed — strikes a perfect chord. It isn’t bright, nor is it sugary. It doesn’t wear like a novelty color that you’ll fall out of love with by Sunday. Instead, it feels calm, balanced, and a little desaturated.

It’s like someone at Rolex took a mood board of eucalyptus leaves and cloudy coastal mornings and said, “Yes, that.” In daylight, it leans pale and silvery, almost metallic in its stillness. In low light, it deepens into something more mossy. Then, in direct sunlight, it certainly lives up to its Pistachio nickname. Underwater — we’ll get to that — it becomes almost blue. It’s a chameleon without being a parlor trick. The 36mm case is, for my wrist, Rolex at its most resolved. I’ve worn a 41mm OP, and while it delivers more wrist presence, it feels like it’s trying to be something else. I have always found the 36mm case size to be the best.

This watch just gets out of the way

The OP36 doesn’t try; it just is. It feels close, balanced, and quietly confident on the wrist. The Oyster bracelet wraps around it without pinching, and the clasp feels overbuilt in the best possible way. There’s a reassuring lack of drama to it — everything clicks, shuts, secures, and disappears. The movement inside the watch did its job with Rolex precision, keeping time at about +2 seconds per day.

It felt like living with someone who is always on time but never tells you so. It just happens. What surprised me most wasn’t how refined it was — I expected that — but how little it protested being treated like a proper tool. I’ve long been suspicious of writers who wax lyrical about wearing their dress-adjacent Rolexes while spearfishing or cliff diving, as though they’re auditioning for a cologne commercial.

A watch in the true tradition of the Oyster name 

But diving — specifically, free diving — is part of my weekly rhythm, so if a watch is going to stay on my wrist, it needs to handle the ocean when I do. So I did what any watch enthusiast with questionable judgment would do. I drove down to the beach early in the morning, strapped on the watch, checked that the crown was firmly screwed in, and walked into the ocean.

The water was calm enough, about 21° C, and clear but with the slight haze that indicated a southerly breeze had blown through the night before. I floated for a moment, letting my breathing settle, and then took my first descent. At around six meters, the light shifts. Sunlight diffuses, shadows settle, and colors begin to flatten. Reds vanish first, then yellows, and then greens. Except they don’t fade entirely. I looked at the dial halfway down and found that the pistachio had gone soft teal, almost aquamarine.

An excellent underwater companion 

The hands were still legible, and the lume was still sharp, with no weird reflections. I touched eight meters, held myself there for a few seconds, then kicked back to the surface. After repeating that three or four times, I suddenly realized I’d forgotten I was wearing it. It was just there with me. It was not like a novelty or a risk but more like an old friend keeping pace. Now, to be clear, I’m not recommending you all treat Oyster Perpetuals like a Submariner. Wait… actually, yes, I am. Go for it.

Sure, it isn’t an ISO-certified dive watch, but I refuse to play into the modern fragility complex that says a 100m-rated Rolex should be treated like it could shatter in the rough and tumble of the sea. If a modern watch can’t handle regular immersion in the sea, it shouldn’t wear the Rolex crown. This one handled it gracefully. Back on land, I did what all responsible enthusiasts do after exposing their mechanical watches to saltwater: I rinsed this Oyster Perpetual under fresh tap water and dried it gently on a towel. And with that, it was back to its classy vibes after the ocean plunge.

The Rolex Oyster Perpetual is rough and ready

There’s something incredibly liberating about knowing your “nice watch” doesn’t need pampering. It just needs to be worn. By the end of my two weeks, I’d reached a conclusion that surprised me slightly by how strongly I felt it: this is the best modern Rolex you can buy today. Yes, it’s better than the Submariner, better than the GMT-Master II, and perhaps even better than the Explorer. Those watches are great, iconic, expertly engineered, and endlessly photographed, but they also carry an expectation: you wear a Sub, and people assume you’re making a statement.

You wear a pistachio Oyster Perpetual, and people assume you’re enjoying yourself. But I must confess one lingering yearning. As much as I adore this pistachio dial, and as much as I would happily call it my favorite of the current collection, I cannot help but pine for one that got away — the discontinued yellow-dial Oyster Perpetual 36.

Concluding thoughts on the Rolex Oyster Perpetual

Ahh, how I wish I owned a Rolex Oyster with a yellow dial — that bright, unapologetic burst of citrus madness, sunshine distilled into lacquer. I never owned one, and every day that passes without Rolex bringing it back feels like a tiny act of cruelty. The pistachio dial is elegant, but the yellow one is joy. And while I’ve grown to appreciate the former, I still dream of the latter. So here I am, two weeks later, back at my desk, the OP still on my wrist, faint salt residue buried somewhere in its clasp screws, and I’m thinking about how few objects in life manage to be both charming and capable without shouting about either.

This watch is one of them. It’s not precious. It’s not loud, and it doesn’t beg to be noticed. It simply is colorful, confident, composed, and quietly brave enough to jump into the sea with me at dawn. And honestly, that’s all I’ve ever wanted from a Rolex.