Hooked on Horology: My Watch Addiction (And Perhaps Yours Too?)

 

This blog post is for people like me: those who love buying watches.

Not just for telling time, but for the craftsmanship, the story, and the feeling each piece brings. If you are not into watches, some of this might seem a little over the top. But if you are one of us, you’ll get it.

We like to tell ourselves they are just watches. Merely tools for telling the time. But deep down, we know they are far more than that.

They are anchors. Mirrors. Symbols of who we are or who we aspire to be.

Whether you own one or twenty, whether it’s a humble quartz or a piece of haute horology, this obsession touches something deeper within us.

So, let’s take an honest look at why we care quite so much and what that might say about us.

Who are we, really? 

We are all wired differently. And yet, somehow, we are strangely in sync, scrolling endlessly through Chrono24 for that perfect vintage piece, or eagerly awaiting our favourite brand’s latest release at Watches and Wonders, swept along by the marketing buzz and the barrage of Instagram posts that come with it.

But why, exactly, do we do this?

We all tell ourselves stories 

We picture how we’ll feel wearing it. We imagine how others might see us.

We convince ourselves it’ll change something, mark a new chapter, spark confidence, make us whole, or finally help us feel like we’re enough.

“This one will be different.”
“This one will mean something.”

 But does it? Or are we simply chasing a version of reality we've invented?

 Psychologists call it symbolic self-completion which is the idea that objects can help fill in the gaps of who we want to be. We imagine the watch completing the picture.

But here’s the lowdown: when the box arrives and the strap clicks into place… life carries on, just as it was. The imagined feeling fades. And so, we chase it again.

We’re not just collecting watches. We’re collecting stories. Stories of identity, escape, longing.

Stories of who we wish we were.

Wristwatches also hold stories of the past, present, and perhaps even the future.

Personally, being drawn to vintage and neo-vintage pieces, most of my watches have had previous owners. I often find myself wondering about their history and their stories.

One thing’s for certain, given the original price tags of many of these pieces I buy, they likely belonged to someone with the means to acquire. Maybe even significant wealth. And clearly, they had exceptional taste, and most of my pieces are not even true heavy hitters.

That said, I’ll never really know their history. And that’s perfectly fine. After all, it’s just a story, and a story can be fiction or non-fiction.

The Pull of Consumerism

Consumerism has exploded on a global scale. In the UK alone, total consumer spending doubled from £521 billion in 1985 to £1.15 trillion by 2015 – accounting for over 60% of GDP.
Globally, middle-class spending grew by more than 10% annually during the ’90s, and by 12.5% between 2005 and 2015. I don’t have the most up-to-date figures to hand, but I’d wager it’s only gone up – with more people having disposable income (or at least the illusion of it), coupled with the rise of credit, tap-to-pay, and the ever-more cashless society we live in.

Today’s consumer wants convenience. Purchases give us that dopamine hit, fleeting as it is and once it fades, we find ourselves back in the loop, chasing the next fix.

So, are we addicted to watches… or addicted to the chase?

Do you enjoy the research, the hunt, the acquisition only to start the process all over again?

Have you ever stopped to ask yourself: why?

Superiority and keeping up – Status Symbols

Luxury watches quietly whisper, “I’ve arrived.”

But here’s something I’ve observed time and time again: many millionaires I know personally either wear smartwatches or shock horror don’t wear a watch at all.

Some sport Seikos or Casios. Beautiful watches, no doubt, but hardly the sort we tend to associate with extreme wealth or traditional luxury.

They’re busy, practical people. They’re not flexing with wristwear, and neither are the people around them.

Perhaps it’s the sort of crowd I move in, but it’s telling: status isn’t always tied to horology, despite what many of us might like to believe.

On the flip side, I also come across people wearing ludicrously expensive timepieces people I’d honestly rather not be seen rubbing shoulders with, likewise people with an expensive watch that I know maybe doesn’t have the means to justify the piece.

Therefore, the watch on someone’s wrist is not necessary a tell of their social status.

Sometimes, collecting watches has little to do with genuine admiration. Instead, it feeds a quieter hunger, for recognition, validation, identity.

Let’s be honest: we all know how this hobby escalates. One minute it’s a Tudor, the next it’s a Rolex, then a ‘better’ Rolex, then something even more… “significant.”

But are we really doing this for ourselves? Or for how we think others perceive us?

A quick glance into social comparison theory, cognitive biases, or even the fear of social exclusion sheds a fair bit of light on why we might feel this way.

One grail felt like enough. Until it wasn’t. Then came the second. Then a watch box. Then a safe. Then a bank safe. And then...

We tell ourselves we “need” variety. But often, we’re just chasing that original high. And the more watches we acquire, the further we stray from the joy that first drew us in.

The collection begins to feel weighty, emotionally, if not physically. After all, we only have two wrists.

Still, we cling to the old line: “Variety is the spice of life,” as we justify yet another addition to the hoard.

The Beauty and art of watchmaking

Watches are one of the rare things in our modern world where form and function exist in perfect harmony.

A movement ticks with silent precision. Dials catch the light in a way that feels almost alive. Hands sweep with grace; complication wheels click with a rhythm that borders on poetry.

It’s a language of craft. A discipline rooted in patience. A celebration of the tiniest details.

But what truly sets watches apart, what distinguishes them from clothes, cars, or handbags, is intimacy.

You don’t wear your car. You don’t wind your coat.

A watch rests against your pulse. It syncs with your daily rhythm.

It’s there in meetings, on holidays, during heartbreaks, and at milestones. It’s closer to you than almost anything else you own.

Unlike fashion, watches don’t bow to trends. Unlike luxury bags, they’re not carried to be seen. And unlike cars, their beauty isn’t brash, it’s whispered.

The world might not notice the chamfered edge of your case, or the hand-finished Geneva striping on your movement… but you do. And that quiet connection, between you and the timepiece, is something sacred.

Watches are living legacies of human ingenuity, worn on the wrist. And let’s be honest, it doesn’t get much cooler than that.

Also, who doesn’t love a bit of good-looking shiny stuff? I certainly do.

I’m the first to admit I’m drawn to the aesthetics of a watch before anything else. The design, the finish, the way it looks on the wrist and that’s what catches my eye.

That’s not to say the watchmaking or horological depth doesn’t appeal, of course it does, but we all have our own reasons for loving the pieces we do and that’s the beauty of it.

Filling the void and Detaching from Reality

Why do we keep going?

Because watches do more than tell the time, they can help us forget it.

They help us forget stress, insecurity, grief. A new watch can feel like control. Like progress. Like healing. Especially when you're endlessly scrolling Instagram, lurking on watch forums, or browsing Chrono24, a never-ending stream of content that keeps us pleasantly distracted.

But psychologists warn us about material coping, the habit of buying things to soothe internal discomfort. It can feel like it fills a void… but only ever temporarily.

Let’s be honest: life is hard. Fast. Overwhelming.

And watches? They’re our retreat.

Psychologists call it consumer escapism, which is the idea that hunting, buying, and admiring objects can give us brief moments of calm amidst the chaos. In that sense, watches become a form of mindfulness.

Winding a watch. Setting the time. Watching the seconds sweep past. These small, quiet rituals can ground us.

But like any escape, it needs balance.

Because without it, the line between retreat and avoidance gets very blurry indeed.

Watches are who we are

We don’t just wear watches. We wear our moods. Our stories. Our past.

Are you wearing the rugged tool watch that reminds you of your father? Or the sleek one you bought the day you got promoted? Or maybe the trusty beater that’s stuck with you through thick and thin?

Each piece reflects you. Collecting watches is, in many ways, a quiet way of saying:

“This is who I was. This is who I am. And this is who I’d like to be.”

Whether your watch carries joyful memories or bittersweet ones, marks a milestone, a wedding, a birth, a personal triumph, or whether you simply brought it because, let’s face it, it just looked cool…

It all matters.

And somehow, it also doesn’t.

(Make sense? No? Perfect – because none of this is supposed to.)

Legacy

Passing down a luxury watch isn’t just about gifting a shiny wrist accessory.

It’s about leaving a legacy and ideally, an asset that stands apart from the usual stuff out there.

These little machines have outlasted recessions, fashion trends, and let’s be honest probably your hairline.

They are wearable time capsules, each carrying a story. And yes, some of them might even be appreciating assets (unlike that NFT you impulsively bought back in 2022).

But here’s the real question: will your kids, nieces, or nephews, grandchildren treasure your beloved watch collection the way you did… or sell it on eBay for some fast cash?

Maybe both and that’s okay too because does any of the materialism even matter?

The hope, of course, is that they’ll feel the weight of the history and memories attached to us and not just the resale value.

But if they don’t? Well, at the very least they’ll know one thing for sure and that is that I was a tasteful motherfuck£r.

The Best Part of Being a Watch Enthusiast...

Without a doubt, the best part of this hobby, for me, is the people.

I’ve met fellow enthusiasts in London, Paris, Berlin, Amsterdam, New York, Los Angeles, and all over the world in the short time I have been collecting watches, some of these people have become great friends.

Through Instagram, I chat with people from every corner of the globe - Europe, Africa, the Middle East, Australasia, the Americas. You name it and I have a conversation open with someone from all over the world.

People from entirely different countries, cultures, religions, and walks of life, all connected by one shared passion: wristwatches.

In an increasingly divided world, watches have this strange ability to bring us together.

There’s something quietly powerful about walking into a room, spotting a watch on someone’s wrist, and instantly knowing, you’ve got something in common.

Because really, it’s not about the watch.

It’s about what the watch opens: friendship, community, a sense of belonging.

Psychology and neuroscience back this up. Research shows that connecting with others who share our interests significantly boosts happiness.

When we engage in shared activities, our brains release oxytocin (the so-called “bonding hormone”) and dopamine - chemicals linked to trust, pleasure, and reduced stress.

Studies also point to something called the social facilitation effect and that shared experiences make things more enjoyable.

People report feeling more validated, energised, and understood when they connect with others who value the same things.

And the benefits go deeper: strong social ties built on mutual interests are linked to greater life satisfaction, lower anxiety, and even a longer life expectancy.

Your wrist doesn’t just tell the time - it tells your story,

It’s not about the watch - It’s about all the other things and people it brings into your life.

@awristology