Perfect is the Enemy of the Good, Or Compromise is not a Dirty Word

I don’t have a Patek Philippe Golden Ellipse. I want one. But I don’t have the money for something like that. Nor, unless I win the lottery (and what’s the probability of that ever happening?), I probably never will. It retails for above 62,000 USD, which is considerably more than what I earn in a year, pre-tax.

Instead, I have this:

It’s a mid-70s Longines manual wind with a linen dial, 10k gold-plated. It’s not perfect. it’s better than perfect. It’s good enough.

For the uncompromising collector, finding an alternative to the watches they really want is a non-starter. They have this idea in their head that only the “real” thing will sate their desire. Maybe they’re right. I don’t think that the Longines is even an apt replacement for a Patek Golden Ellipse. But then, what is? So, what’s the solution? Get the real deal? I don’t have 62,000 USD. And even if I did, that’s too much money to throw away on a watch. If I were netting 10 million dollars a year, then, yes, I’m getting the Patek. But I’m not there and there’s a huge possibility that I will never get there.

The uncompromising collector will shrug this off as just another problem to solve. “If you really want one, save up for it. It might take a while but you’ll get there.” No compromise, no substitution, no placeholder.

I have a different approach to financing my watches than most people. Some might even call it a hot take.

I don’t see the point in saving for a watch. I’ve always maintained that either I could or couldn’t afford a watch at the moment of purchase. Now, you might think I’m promoting irresponsible handling of money here. But really I’m doing the opposite. I think my approach is the healthier way of dealing with an addictive hobby. I base my watch purchases on my economic situation at the time I’m deciding to buy.

I firmly believe that in order to enjoy the hobby and not let it get in the way of life, you only spend money you’re not going to miss, not the money you already have.

Here’s an illustration: Let’s say I save up for the Golden Ellipse. 62,000 USD, I want to remind you. Let’s say I’m able to save 2,000 a month. In 31 months (or a little over two and a half years later) I have the money. But unless, again, my economic situation have improved significantly over those two and a half years, that sixty-two thousand would still be more money than I earn in a year. How could I possibly blow all of that on a piece of jewelry? Imagine the family vacations, investments, house mortgage, car payments, and other things I could have put that money into? What will I have to give up for a watch? Not to mention the fact that in order to save 2,000 a month, what do I have to sacrifice for that? For thirty-one months? Oh, and the servicing, of course. An advice on funding a watch purchase that has me scratching my head is to consider too the cost of servicing the watch. I think if servicing becomes a factor in your decision, you can’t afford the watch, period.

No. I don’t save and never will save for a watch. A watch purchase can be painful. I’m not saying it shouldn’t be. I’ve spent pain-inducing amount of money on watches. But it shouldn’t be the world. The financial pain has to be an inconvenience, not life-altering. So, no, I won’t save for a Golden Ellipse. It’s just not in the cards for me. And I’m fine with that. The Golden Ellipse would’ve been perfect. But I’m fine with good enough.

Don’t settle. You will never be happy if you settle.

It might just be the third-worlder in me that’s talking but I always found the advice “don’t settle” unsettling when the topic is watches. Or most things, actually. I mean, really? Don’t settle? Who are we to deserve perfection?

See, I came from poor stock. My father was a self-made man who walked five kilometers to and fro school everyday for the entirety of his high school life because his family couldn’t afford public transportation or a nearer school. He likes telling this story. It’s his favorite way of putting his kids in our places and letting us know explicitly that–but for the grace of–we could have ended up in the slums, hanging out at the corner store in the middle of the day, literally shirtless and drinking petrol-tasting gin.

Growing up, I have gone to bed on an empty stomach. I never walked to school but there had been times when–since my parents couldn’t afford to make the next tuition fee installment payment–I had to give my teachers a hand-written promissory note from my mother in the hopes the school would allow me take my quarterly exams.

Even as an adult I struggled at times to make ends meet. As my father loved telling the walking to school story, I like telling the tale of how for three straight days I had nothing but water in my belly because it was either I have money to get to work or I eat. I chose to go to work. I didn’t live paycheck to paycheck. I would’ve killed to live paycheck to paycheck.

I’m not complaining. I’m actually thankful that I struggled because that makes whatever little I’ve achieved that much sweeter. I’m equally thankful that my and my family’s history of hardship taught me to settle. In other words, make do with whatever’s available and be glad for it, instead of shouting at the sky for what’s not.

I do try not to have a sense of entitlement with watches. I’m just happy I’m now able to afford them. Well, a lot of them. The more I stay in the hobby the more disgusted I am at the skyrocketing prices of some timepieces. And yet, my inability to afford them doesn’t deter me from coveting. I wish it did so that I could be spared the heartbreak.

But I do covet. There are so many iconic, legendary watches that deserve to be admired. But we have to be careful here. Don’t fall in love. If you do, no watch will be good enough.

It’s a little bit like admiring a beautiful woman from a distance. Sooner or later, it won’t be enough to stare and pine for that dream girl atop the pedestal you created in your head. Sooner or later, admiration will evolve into desire and perhaps love. So that, when she gets married to someone else, you get this… this physical, real pain in your chest like something is squeezing your heart, and all because you had the audacity to fall in love with someone you never really had a chance with. All the while the girl who’s waiting for you at home becomes an ordinary placeholder keeping you company until you get the woman you think you deserve.

Ahem. I’m being dramatic, obviously. But watches that are rendered mythopoeic in our heads, material apotheosis through marketing and content, become bigger than what they truly are. And what they truly are… are just plain, simple, inaccurate, unnecessary watches. They are about as useful as mechanical typewriters in this day and age. They’re just watches.

That moonwatch that we so lust after hasn’t really gone to the moon. That Rolex that James Cameron took down the Mariana Trench isn’t waiting for us fanboys inside a grey market vault somewhere in Middle America.

I have given into the romanticism of owning watches. I have. I’ve even written about the romanticism many a time. The “story” being more important to me than the actual specs a watch might have. I believe in all of that. But I also believe in perfect being the enemy of the good. Why not be more open to the good, instead of pursuing the perfect? What’s wrong with falling in love with the accessible girl whom you can actually afford to keep and spend time with? Don’t settle? Don’t kid yourself. We settle all the time.

My collection is a series of compromises that I didn’t mind making when I got them because life’s too short to stress about the watches I can’t have.

My Reverso is an early 90s monoface, probably the cheapest Reverso you could ever buy. Well, no, maybe not the cheapest. But one of the cheapest. So what? I know I’ll never be able to afford a more elaborate Reverso. My Reverso is not perfect. It’s better, it’s mine and it’s good enough. I love the legend of the moon watch but it’s too expensive for me. My Speedmaster from 1997 doesn’t even have the right color. Oh and it’s “Reduced.” But that’s fine too. It’s not perfect. It’s good enough. I’ve always coveted a Glashütte Original but those are just too much money for me. My 1972 Glashütte GUB manual wind is not perfect but it’s good enough. I have a Cartier Tank that’s gold-plated, not solid gold…

I could go on but I won’t out of politeness.

Happiness and contentment are intangible and fleeting emotions that–if we’re being honest–don’t stay long enough to warm up the bed. Who’s to say that the contentment one gets from acquiring one’s grail watch will last?

If you can take anything away from this rant, please let it be this: The goal shouldn’t be achieving the watch you can’t afford, it’s learning to be content with the watch that you can. Accept that life is a series of compromises. Dig deep to appreciate what you CAN have, instead of fretting about what you CAN’T.

I am never going to be rich enough to buy the legendary watches in my head. But that doesn’t mean I have to go without.