Taking off the Watch
A watch may be one of the few pieces of jewelry a man wears every day. It adds something to an outfit, but it also serves a purpose.
Most days, I wear an Apple Watch—a practical tool for workouts, messages, alerts, and the meetings that shape the working day. In the evening, I often exchange it for an analog watch. One of my favorites is a Timex I found at Sid Mashburn: an understated classic whose strap I change depending on what I am wearing. That small exchange marks a transition. The workday is over. The phone can remain at home or, at the very least, in my pocket.
But when I am on vacation, something else happens. I stop wearing a watch altogether.
It is never a conscious decision. I do not arrive and tell myself to take it off. A few days pass before I notice that my wrist is bare. By then, time has already begun to feel different.
I sleep until I wake. I eat when I am hungry. Dinner is arranged around the sunset rather than the calendar. The changing light becomes the clock, and the day finds its own rhythm.
Perhaps that is when I know I am truly on vacation—not when the plane lands or the suitcase is unpacked, but when I no longer need to know what time it is.
My watch is somewhere in the room. I am here, in the moment, no longer tracking time.
