It all starts with a wrist shot.
A gold Rolex Daytona gleaming under perfect lighting, hashtagged with #NewWatch Alert. The comments flood in "Congratulations", "Baller AF", "Pure fire". But beneath the facade of social media lies an uncomfortable truth—luxury watches, once cherished for their art and history, have become props in a status-obsessed culture. The watch community now finds itself divided between those chasing clout and those staying true to the craft. But the question is: can it ever be both?
The rise of "flex culture" has turned horology into a battleground for likes and followers. Iconic models are no longer just masterpieces—they are currency in the game of social validation. The result: social media frenzy where the latest release becomes a must-have. I have shared my fair share of wrist shots on Instagram (@ryehn), and I have experienced this phenomenon firsthand. Photos featuring the usual suspects—steel Daytonas, Royal Oaks and Nautiluses—always garnered significant attention because that is what people expect and love to see. Yet, when l once posted a photo of a friend's Patek Philippe Celestial 5102G—one of my personal favourites—it barely scraped a hundred likes. It was disheartening, to say the least, and a reminder of how often true artistry is overlooked in favour of trends and hype.
As the hype continues, the pressure on collectors to conform grows heavier. Social media has created an environment where owning a lesser-known or unconventional brand often feels like a failure to keep up. Everyone is chasing the next big thing. During my journey, I have watched trends come and go. Brands that once ruled the scene now struggle to stay relevant, while others rise from obscurity to dominate the conversation That is precisely why some collectors are seeking alternatives, turning to vintage pieces and independent brands to escape the standard image of luxury. From my experience, this realm is where you encounter the most passionate and knowledgeable enthusiasts—the ones who value individuality above validation.
The turning point for many collectors comes when they start questioning their own motivations. I remember obsessing over a popular high-demand timepiece and feeling the urge to make it mine—not because it resonated with my taste, but because of its status in the watch world. That realisation was unsettling Was I drawn to the watch for its craftsmanship and history, or was I simply chasing it to prove I could have it? This internal conflict forced me to step back and reevaluate what drew me to watches in the first place. It was not the attention or the flex—it was the art, the story, and the connection I felt when wearing a piece that truly resonated with me.
The rise of independent watchmakers has also played a crucial role in driving this movement. Brands like H Moser & Cie, MB&F and De Bethune are carving out a niche, offering avant-garde designs and bespoke craftsmanship that stand apart from the mainstream. These timepieces are not just unique—they embody individuality and spark curiosity. I still remember coming across the MB&F HM3 over a decade ago and being blown away. I showed it to my peers, and their reactions were priceless: "What in the world is that?" That is the beauty of these smaller brands—they foster personal connections between the collector, the creator, and a tight-knit community of enthusiasts who share a mutual appreciation for the unconventional.
In a word obsessed with appearances, is it not time we asked ourselves what truly matters? Is it the applause of strangers or the quiet satisfaction of owning something deeply personal and meaningful? A watch should be more than a symbol of wealth or success—it should tell a story, evoke emotion, and reflect the wearer's journey. Perhaps, in seeking less validation from others, we find more value in ourselves.
