
Friday, September 19, 2025
In my outside job, I work in a department where I frequently sell high-end watches. At first, I was fascinated to discover how many customers still enjoy studying and wearing traditional wristwatches. I wondered why they bothered with conventional styles when smart watches can do so much more—letting us know when a phone call or text arrives, reminding us to pause, breathe, and reflect, and so on. I’d been almost satisfied with my smart watch.
Almost—because I’ll admit, those sudden prompts to “pause and breathe” or “note your feelings” often left me annoyed. Meanwhile, through the process of presenting and selling traditionally styled watches, I became intrigued by their strong points: accuracy, battery technology, sturdiness, dependability, and, not least, their wearable beauty.
On impulse, I ordered two wristwatches online. One is a refurbished brand I’ve been selling—a high-end, good-looking piece that is fashionable, accurate, and reliable. The other is a $9 rugged-style timepiece that has unexpectedly become my favorite. Sporty and lightweight, it offers day, date, time, alarm, seconds, and stopwatch functions. My only concern is whether its “crystal” (likely hardened plastic) will scratch easily. But at $9, if it does—who cares?
So, I’ve retired my smart watch. No more charging, no more unwanted nudges. I’ll miss alerts to incoming calls, but my phone is usually in my pocket with a ringtone I can hear. I might miss step counting, but I know my daily steps already run into the thousands.
Reflecting on this change, I’m reminded again how learning shifts perspective. For years, I never once considered wanting a traditional wristwatch. Now, understanding their dependability, durability, and sheer beauty has made them alluring—and even a “heapy-cheepy” rugged model proves that simple technology can be capable and cool.
Perhaps best of all, my own experiment gives me more insight—and more articulate ways to share the appeal of high-end wristwatches with customers.
— Diana








