Never Buy a Rolex Before Reading This

Exploring man's quest for Rolex watches, the value of status symbols, and where true contentment resides

In a private jet, surrounded by CEOs flaunting their fancy watches, I felt a pang of insecurity.

So, I bought a gold presidential Rolex, just like my grandfather's.

When it arrived, something unexpected happened.

—

In 1980, my paternal grandfather, Reg, bought his Rolex.

Gramp was a prosperous lawyer and businessman with an infectious laugh.

Sometimes, he let me play with his watch.

I'd hold it to my ear, listening to its steady ticking, dreaming of the day I'd own one.

At 21, after a small windfall, I splurged on a stainless steel Rolex Submariner.

That night, it graced my wrist as I ventured into a nightclub, bringing an unusual surge of confidence and even attracting a woman—something rare for me.

It never left my wrist for years.

But as I gained weight, it no longer fit well.

My friend Macully borrowed it and, one drunken night, I supposedly gave it to him.

—

Rolex is a remarkable business story.

Founder Hans Wilsdorf (1881-1960) believed in promotion.

“Only great marketing is needed to make a company successful,” he said.

In 1967, Rolex embraced golf, gifting watches to legends.

Champions proudly wore Rolexes, and ads declared "a crown for every achievement."

Iconic courses featured giant Rolex clocks.

As a young golfer and caddy, Rolex's sports marketing influenced me. Gramp's love for golf may have drawn him in too.

Pro tennis sponsorship followed, solidifying Rolex as a global status symbol.

Founded in 1908, Rolex relocated from Britain to tax-friendly Switzerland just seven years later.

Wilsdorf willed his shares to a foundation, shielded from taxes.

Despite exclusivity, Rolex allegedly sells over a million watches annually, worth around $10 billion.

The profit margins remain a well-guarded secret.

—

Back in that jet, I chose to mark my success with a yellow gold Day-Date Presidential '40.

Weeks later, as I unveiled the gleaming watch, memories of that plane resurfaced—of feeling "less-than."

"Is this it!?" I wondered.

Thinking of Gramp, I realised this wouldn't bring him back or make me truly happy.

Tears swelled in my eyes.

—

A fancy watch once inflated my ego, but age brought clarity.

No possession could mend my insecurities.

Wearing it now filled me with dread, fearing it might cause others to feel inferior.

So, I tucked it away, focusing on meaningful pursuits: writing, connecting, cherishing moments with my toddlers. Life improved.

Today, a fancy watch serves me no purpose.

—

Rolex's marketing once held sway, but owning one didn't fulfil the anticipation.

While there are worse ways to spend money (both models I bought are worth more today), I'm convinced fancy watches aren't worth it.

The true value lies in stories, not timepieces.

—

My brother inherited our grandfather's Rolex, as he never coveted it.

Through this journey, I've learned the foolishness of status symbols. I still want to impress you, but with my heart or head, not my things. A simple watch suits me, but above all, it's the bonds and connections that truly make life tick.

Let me know what you think.