Learning from Watches

I copped a new watch earlier this year, so naturally I’m now exploring:

• What I find peculiar about a wide range of pieces,

• The value that I receive across price points (gimme), and

• The ways in which a piece can enhance my style.

I’ve also been thinking about how one best develops their overall sense of taste and style.

Trying new things. Chopping it up with strangers. Reading books and physical copy magazines.

These avenues are tried and true.

But in their podcast “How to Discover Your Own Taste,” Ezra Klein & Kyle Chayka touch on another avenue – the internet – that they, I, and presumably many others are struggling to use in a way that helps us become more attuned with ourselves.

They note how we all need spaces where we’re forced to experience difficult content (in a healthy way) and come up with our own conclusions.

Where we can meander, ponder what something’s doing to us, and let our internal systems work their magic.

But online, we always have the option to eject as soon as the slightest hint of boredom crops up -- scrolling and context-switching so frequently that information overwhelms us.

As Chayka notes:

“Scarcity, boredom,difficulty … (are) often what create meaning, and when there are infinite options around the corner, we never sit with something in front of us with patience, fortitude, and willpower to figure out if we truly like it. But, if we figure out maybe just one (thing) that brings us joy or was unexpected, or changes how we think … then we’ve resisted or fought a generic experience … and that’s the only thing worth it in the field of culture. Why would you want to have the generic experience or the lowest common denominator (as a) result of a recommendation?”

While the internet (i.e., twitter, for me) entertains and informs in ways that routinely leave me in awe of our collective creativity and wit, it provides few clues if the work we’re doing, or the people we’re spending time with, feel like a generic experience.

And why should we expect anything different?

We used to have to work to find interesting things online; now, “curators” who often lack any real expertise bombard us with algo-fueled recommendations … leaving little room for style, taste, and nuance.

Instead, it may be worth pursuing the avenues above … both for enjoyment’s sake, and for standing out in an ever-evolving, technology-first world:

To put it another way, life’s more rewarding when we determine – and act on -- what’s worth adding our own aesthetic:

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Notes

• My dad bought me watches when I was a kid -- and liked to joke that I never actually wore them. After cleaning my old bedroom, I found this Swatch … nice and weathered, I must say.

  

• Bill Walton was a multi-hyphenate, quirky as hell, and embraced his weirdness in a way that led to an authentic life. Here’s another great tribute. RIP

• From the Hodinkee founder who was asked about his first coach built car: “It was handmade. I love things that are made by artisans. Hand-wound watches, handmade glasses, shoes, suits … that’s what my business is all about.”

• Around the 13:30 minute mark, Jerry Seinfeld discusses how he likes people who have a little style in everything that they do.

• Klein & Chayka also discuss …

  • The value of a “web of connection”: if you like an album or book, figure out who inspired them, who they’ve worked with, etc. The result is refined taste.

  • The promise of the early internet, where you could find someone you wouldn’t have found otherwise. You could grow alongside that voice, and what Klein wanted was weirder things that would be difficult to explain to someone else (“I’m not so sure … I don’t know what I think … it’s complicated”). But now, it seems like niche voices just point to things that other popular voices already like, making it harder to find people with unique taste.

• Might need: Brick