Vintage Rolex: Perfection as a Hipster

I’ve been teased as a hipster ever since that word became part of the lexicon decades ago. And it somehow stuck even though I don’t consider myself one. I do, from time to time, display characteristics of a hipster. But those outbreaks of self-important indulgences were few and far in between and—I’d like to think anyway—mild enough to be tolerable. 

I don’t dress like a hipster, I don’t sport a mustache that twirled at the end in a circular fashion. I don’t like typewriters. If my clothes were vintage it’s only because I’m too cheap to replace decades-old shirts. It’s not like I shop for 70s bellbottom pants. 

But, yeah, I do have hipsterly traits. I remember enjoying telling people that I had read the George RR Martin novels when the first season of Game of Thrones first aired on HBO. I prefer the obscure music of Nick Drake over whatever it is that kids are listening to these days. I had stopped learning new songs mid-2005. I take pleasure in giving unsolicited lectures on campy 70s Filipino cinema. 

In short, my taste in things are somewhat “alternative.” If it’s popular I tend to be a snob and rally against it. Even with watches, really. My preferred aesthetic is more Wes Anderson than the Wachowskis. 

As such, I’ve shunned the popular. The words “I don’t like Seiko because everyone and their uncle have Seiko” actually came out of my mouth once or twice. I’m lucky no one’s beaten me up yet over this. I’ve always felt the same way about Rolex. I don’t like it because every wanna-be jerk-off who feels like they’ve made it wears a Rolex. No no no. Not for me. My aversion for the popular would not let me pull the trigger on a Rolex no matter how many people (including my father and brother, Rolex fanboys both) tell me how good their watches are. I haven’t even talked about whether I could afford one. I can’t.

And then this happened…

Over the weekend I picked up a 1959 30mm Rolex Precision from my vintage watch dealer. 

On other fora like WatchCrunch, I’ve not been shy about expressing my dislike for Seiko and Rolex. Both for the same reason, if not the same demographics. They are just too ubiquitous, too popular. In other words, too driven by the masses. Yes, even Rolex. They just cater to a different salary bracket. Did I say that already? Oh well. It bears repeating.

I have a hard time loving these brands given my hipster sensibilities. I have purchased Seikos before, just trying to understand what seems-like-everyone love. I don’t even get to second base on Seiko. I’m that girl who feigns an emergency phone call to get out of a date. What is everyone getting that I’m not? 

Rolex, on the other hand, well, I can’t just willy-nilly buy one on the fly to see if I like it. It has to be specific. Enter Ernest Hemingway, the great bear of literature. From reading about watches, I know that he’s a Rolex guy and wore an Oyster Perpetual in the 50s and a bubbleback in the 40s. I can’t express enough how much Hemingway inspired me to pursue writing. I even took a job in France for two years to have my own Moveable Feast. Reading that sentence here… maybe I am a hipster.

Anyway, my vintage dealer had been trying for an entire year now to sell me a Rolex. She never understood my resistance. She would point out that even my father is a Rolex wearer. I had said yes to several models over the past few months, only to eventually back out. Too much money I had thought.

But something about this 1959 Precision grabbed me. I still needed some convincing but my vintage dealer was relentless.

Having worn this watch for a few days now, I’m finding that I like it. I’m not in love, of course. Not yet. At first I thought the 30mm caseback would be too small. I have other watches that are as small, even smaller–my first vintage was a 1937 Hamilton Endicott and that’s 29mm. My Jaeger LeCoultre Aviator from the 40s is only a millimeter bigger but wears almost the same. I don’t mind small. I prefer small. Nonetheless, somehow the 30mm felt small for a Rolex. Is it because its small size makes it almost impossible for people to recognize it’s a Rolex?

I just read that last sentence and immediately felt shame. Does it really matter if no one recognizes that it’s a Rolex? Six months ago I would’ve said yes. Yes. Of course it matters. Why even get a Rolex if not to feel the warm, fuzzy affirmation that you’re better than everyone else?

Now? Nah, it’s just a watch. An expensive watch for sure but really just a watch at the end of the day. Having bought my–I will say it even if it’s cringey–grail watch, a Jaeger LeCoultre Reverso Classique monoface twotone, several weeks ago, a switch was flipped in my head somehow, as I mentioned in other spaces. It is THE WATCH, the watch to end all watches. Since I have THE WATCH, all other watches are now just watches. Memorable, yes. Vessels for stories, yes. Wonderful mechanical works of art, yes. But they’re no longer status symbols, just things of varying degrees of expensiveness. A Rolex is no different than an Omega is no different than a Citizen. If I wanted to flex or feel like I belong to a certain economic segment of the population, I wear the Reverso. Shaking hands with the president? Reverso. Trying to look suave and sophisticated at an event? Reverso. Well, depending on the event. I certainly won’t wear it at the next comic-con.

I think this is why I was so easy to be persuaded to get a Rolex. The brand’s prestige (the good) and its baggage (the bad) no longer held any mystical powers over me. It’s just a watch. The only questions I have to ask myself are: does it have a place in the collection, what’s the story behind it, and can I afford it?

The point I’m trying to make is that it doesn’t matter that the Rolex logo and crown could not be seen in the Precision unless you had a long hard look at it. This Rolex is perfect for my hipster mindset.

Yes, it’s a Rolex but it’s not blatantly Rolex. It’s the wrong size for what people think of when they think Rolex. You’re gonna have to ask me to be sure. It’s not a modern Rolex. It’s over 60 years old, so I’m not following any trends or counting myself among the many folks waiting for that call to claim their Submariners. Its prestige, at least for me, doesn’t come from the fact that it’s a Rolex. Its prestige is that it’s from the 1950s. And Hemingway wore the brand. Its size of 30mm stopped being a problem. In fact, it became an asset. Hemingway wore a 31mm Oyster Perpetual. Right size, right period. If a manly man like Hemingway can wear a 31mm, I can wear a 30mm just fine.

This Rolex is turning out to be the best antiRolex, perfect for a hipster.

Somehow I can’t shake the feeling that my watch collecting hobby is like that line in that one Belle and Sebastian song: And she aspired to perfection as a hipster.

I read the novels before they became popular enough to be put on film.