Watch Snobbery Says More About The Snob Than The Watch

The conversation flowed easily, and the modern Spanish menu was inventive and assured. The watches passed around the table for inspection were small sculptural feats that even those with a untrained eye would have admired.

In other words, it was a typical watch presentation lunch.

In which brand’s representatives show their new pieces over an expensive meal to a table of magazine writers and editors, few of whom could afford what is on display.

But we matter to the brand all the same. Because we go back to our desks and write about these watches for the people who can.

The brand’s watches are always the main attraction, but there are sideshows.

Seat enough watch writers at one table and attention will drift, discreetly, to what everyone else is wearing.

Seat enough watch writers at one table and attention will drift, discreetly, to what everyone else is wearing.

“Aren’t you sick of wearing this watch?” a fellow writer asked.

Had I not been pausing between mouthfuls, I would have choked.

He meant my Rolex GMT-Master II, a watch that had cost me real money, and which I had owned and worn with pride for many years.

He must have seen it on my wrist at one lunch too many.

“No, why?” I said.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that every time I see it, I think of an insurance agent or a car salesman.”

“What’s wrong with being an insurance agent or a car salesman?”

“Well, you know. It’s just what people who are more enlightened about watches would think.”

If that exchange leaves you puzzled, I envy you, and I hope you stay that way.

If you understood exactly what my companion was implying, you will agree it is a shame. Won’t you?

When I was starting out, I owned a single mechanical watch, a Fortis chronograph that had been gifted, and I wore it constantly.

A fellow journalist noticed and asked, without much of a filter, “This, again?”

To hear much the same remark more than two decades into my work is baffling—and a little sad.

Nor is it confined to lunch tables. I once read a review by a seasoned and widely respected writer who declared that he did not regard anyone as a real collector unless they owned a watch from the brand under review.

I had to read it twice to be sure I hadn’t misread it.

Collecting and appreciating watches, or in my case writing about them, ought to be fun, eye-opening, and enriching.

In the right company, it ought to be convivial. Often it is.

But the hobby also draws a particular crowd: wealthy, well connected, and inclined to own the best watches money can buy.

Collecting and appreciating watches ought to be fun, eye-opening, and enriching.

To constantly encounter watch snobbery in over two decades into my work as a lifestyle journalist is baffling—and a little sad.

So yes, there is a price of entry.

Even watches sold as “entry-level” are rarely inexpensive; they are simply less expensive than what sits above them.

And like any pursuit, watch appreciation has its tiers. They run from passionate newcomers, through Instagram’s watch personalities, to the aficionados who have seen and handled almost everything.

Somewhere along the way, then, you will meet enthusiasts who know more than you, are better connected, and own more or better watches than you do.

That is fine.

What is not fine is when they make sure you feel it. Or worse still, when they do it for their own gratification.

Like any pursuit, watch appreciation has its tiers.

So how do you handle it?

Start by recognising these snobs.

A comment like my lunch companion’s has very little to do with the watch.

It is about rank: a way of placing himself above another. Seen that way, it becomes much harder to take personally.

Then be patient.

Snobbery depends on a reaction, whether that is embarrassment or defence of what you like or wear.

A calm question usually does more than any argument.

When I asked what was wrong with being an insurance agent, my companion had no answer worth giving.

Watch snobbery is about rank: a way of placing himself above another.

You may have chosen a watch because you admire how it is made, because it marks a moment in your life, or simply because you like looking at it.

Whatever the reason, it belongs to you, and it needs no one’s approval.

It also helps to choose your company.

The collectors I have learnt most from over two decades have also been the most generous.

They talk about a Seiko with the same interest as a Philippe Dufour, and they are more curious about why you love your watch than about what it cost.

Finally, resist becoming one yourself.

It is easy for me to forget how it felt to be the young writer with a single Fortis, and easier still to mistake owning more for knowing better.

As for the GMT-Master II, it has outlasted that lunch by some years.

I wear it proudly still, in the good company of every insurance agent and car salesman who worked hard to earn one.