If you told 25-year-old me that I’d one day be gushing over balance wheels, diamond clarity, and crown guards, I probably would’ve laughed — then promptly checked my phone for the time. Because truth be told, I used to hatewearing watches. Hated. Them. They felt bulky, uncomfortable, and let’s be honest, who wants to strap a constant reminder of time running out to their wrist anyway? Not me. I didn’t need a ticking companion whispering, “You’re late,” “Hurry up,” or “Time’s up” every time I reached for a sandwich.
But something funny happened in my mid-30s. I stumbled, almost by accident, into the world of fine watchmaking. Not just “oh hey, that’s a nice watch,” but the art of it — the mechanics, the movements, the stories, the passion tucked behind a polished caseback. And just like that, the switch flipped. I went from a guy who avoided watches like salad at a BBQ to an avid collector of luxury and ultra-luxury timepieces.
My collection started slowly, as most obsessions do. The first few were Rolex — because if you’re going to jump into the deep end, why not do it with the brand that practically invented the deep end? I picked up four different Rolex models, each one speaking to a different part of my personality. Some elegant. Some bold. Some just because they looked cool with a suit. I didn’t realize it at first, but each Rolex carried something with it — a vibe, a presence, a small reminder that life is worth showing up to with a little style.
And then came the crown jewel — my Jacob & Co Five Time Zone. I added it to my collection in early 2025, and let me just say… this watch does notwhisper. It announces. Encrusted with nearly 4 carats of the clearest, most flawless diamonds sourced exclusively through certified gemologists, this thing sparkles so hard it could guide ships at sea. At 47mm, it’s big for my wrist — okay, fine, it’s like a small moon orbiting my forearm — but the craftsmanship is absolutely stunning. It’s not just a timepiece, it’s wearable art. And every time I put it on, I’m reminded of how far my appreciation for horology has come.
I also have a few family heirlooms — timeless pieces that were passed down through generations, each with their own worn straps and quiet stories. I treasure these just as much as the modern marvels. There’s something sacred about wearing a watch that your grandfather wound every Sunday, or that your father wore to his first big job interview. These aren’t just accessories. They’re legacy.
Looking ahead, my wish list has started to take shape. I’ve got my eyes on a Bovet, because their pieces are like miniature museums. Every detail is a masterstroke, every design a nod to classic elegance. And then there’s the Patek Philippe Calatrava — a watch so refined, so understated, it practically demands respect without saying a word. These are the kinds of timepieces that don’t just tell time… they tell a story.
That’s really what I’ve come to love about watch collecting. It’s not about keeping track of hours or showing off price tags — it’s about meaning. Each watch in my collection reminds me of something. A moment. A success. A shift in mindset. A celebration. Some people collect art for the walls. I collect it for my wrist.
So yeah, I was late to the party — ironically, because I never wanted to “watch the clock.” But I’ve come to realize that the right watch doesn’t keep you on schedule… it reminds you to make every second count.