What Is a Man's Wristwatch?

A wristwatch may be much more than a portable timekeeper. It may have a great deal of personal and cultural significance. A fine, brief survey of that significance is found in the introduction to Gene Stone's The Watch. Stone offers a male perspective, and in my experience men and women do regard the wristwatch very differently (I'll discuss that in another post).

What is a man's wristwatch? Is it a piece of jewelry? A mechanical marvel? A fashion accessory? Or a fashion necessity?

It all depends on its owner. For many men, a wristwatch is the only piece of jewelry they'll ever own. It's a chance for those who disdain a chain or an earring to wear a precious metal–gold silver, or platinum. Men who feel uncomfortable even with a bland school ring will wear a huge solid-gold Audemars Piguet or Vacheron Constantin.

Then again, many men will tell you that a watch isn't a piece of jewelry at all. It is a practical device worn for a sole reason: to tell the time. Jewelry is a trifle, whereas a watch is a necessity. Many of these men are fond of quartz watches because of their accuracy, and opt for Japanese brands such as Citizen and Seiko, or the German Junghans, which manufactures radio-controlled timepieces.

For others, the wristwatch is a complicated piece of machinery. And the more complicated, the better. These are men who want the newest innovations in chronographs, calendars, power reserves, repeaters, and tourbillons. IWC's Il Destriero Scafusia is a split-seconds chronograph with a tourbillon that tells hours, minutes, seconds, day , date, moon phases, year, and also contains an hour, quarter-hour, and minute repeater. This model sold out. And watches with even more complications have been introduced.

Given that the watch is often the only item a discreet man can wear that shows off his wealth, some consider a watch the equivalent of a fancy sports car for the wrist. In these circles, a watch offers men the chance to roll up their sleeves and prove their worth with a huge piece of glitter, such as a Franck Muller or a Roger Dubuis.

And then there are those for whom wearing a watch is a chance to prove that they possess the latest, hippest invention: a device that not only tells time, but also features accessories like a temperature measurement function, a heart-rate monitor, and tidal information, such as the Casio G-Shock model line, whose instruction manuals are thicker than many books.

A watch is also a piece of history. To own a watch is to own the latest evolution of a record of timekeeping dating back to water clocks and sundials–it's a tiny replica of the same mechanism used by medieval clocks six hundred years ago. Some of the watches from companies like Jaquet Droz or A. Lange & Sohne purposefully look like timepieces of yore–and these, too, often sell out.

A watch can represent a slice of family history, too. A friend of mine has a gold Patek Philippe that his grandfather bought in 1925. Then his father wore it (only on special occasions–he considered his Longines more useful for day-to-day wear). Now my friend owns the Patek Philippe–but as the company's own advertising slogan boasts, you don't own a Patek Philippe as much as you pass it along to the next generation.

But of course, if you don't want to pass the watch along, you can sell it. That's yet another category of watch: the appreciable investment. Unlike a refrigerator, which loses value the moment it's purchased, a well-bought watch can gain value. A 14-karat-gold Hamilton Otis that cost $67.50 in 1938 can fetch $10,000 today.

For the less financially minded, a watch is a fashion accessory to be matched with a belt and shoes. Such men disparage the notion that one can wear a brown leather band with black shoes and belt, or vice versa. A watch, whatever its brand or price, is a detail in an outfit, and at times a $50 vintage watch can be more correct than a $10,000 Rolex if the rest of the attire complements it.

Finally, a watch is an aesthetic pleasure. What do you look at more often each day than your watch? Why not wear on your wrist something that makes you happy whenever you see it? Aesthetes aren't interested in its movement, or how it corresponds to their clothes, or even whether it keeps good time. For them, the face is everything.

For all watch wearers, the timepiece is something else. Everyone finds himself alone at some point, in an unfamiliar environment or in a strange place: the terrible hotel room you’re given when a flight is canceled, the motel room that’s never been cleaned. These are the times when you know that, even if your clothes are rumpled, the phones aren’t working, and the lighting is ominous, you have a companion. You take out your small piece of metallic genius and gaze at it. You feel a sense of pride in its workmanship, a sense of familiarity with its face, a sense of attachment to its touch.

A wristwatch is a universe of possibilities. It is a metaphor for the cosmos or a hunk of gold. It is anything and everything you want it to be. Wear it, stare at it, love it, repair it, open it, time it: Your watch represents a small part of you, wherever you go.