636 words
Time of Writing: August 18th, 2026
The terms upon which we define luxury are met by different standards for everyone. For some, it is not having to worry about something. For others, it is being seen at a higher station than those they stand shoulder to shoulder with. At times, these two criteria intersect when the conditions, and the products, are right. There’s no better example of this in the year of 2026 than the automotive industry and that of vehicles made by Lexus/Toyota. They are not the most advanced or luxurious cars on the market, but the rise in their desirability due to rising costs and wanting a car to last as long as possible has made these products soar in demand, price, theft, and price retention. Many who would have only been seen in an SUV from Stuttgart in 2018 are now lining up to be seen in a Lexus GX or Toyota Land Cruiser as the desirability from their reliability has bled on over to that of it being a statement of status.
Since being noticed has never been a desire of mine, my mind always perceived luxury as having one’s burdens lifted. This came to light this last week when my schedule was upended, requiring everything to be abandoned for the sake of caregiving for an elder. The one item that came into direct question when this acute window of caregiving began was the watch I was wearing on my wrist.
The NOMOS Orion 1989
The previous evening, I was out with a large group of friends. We ate, drank, and celebrated a friend’s birthday with a degree of being carefree which I had not experienced since before the pandemic. That night I wore my NOMOS Orion 1989, a dress watch on a leather strap made by a close friend of mine, as I socialized and went about taking photos of all of the guests. A few hours later, I received a familiar text, which instantly meant that the NOMOS would have to be put into a safe, and brought back memories of the pandemic and the thousands of hours spent in medical facilities on behalf of others.
This text notified me that the next few days would be spent in and out of medical facilities, and the chances of being in contact with biological waste from the loved one in need of care were raised. This meant that dress watches and strap/bracelet options that are not easily sanitizable were not an option. Memories of the pandemic flooded back, where I came to rely on a particular slim dive watch with either its OEM bracelet or that of a rubber pass-through strap.
My battered Omega Seamaster 300, which has seen…things…
As the days passed, I came to realize that the most luxurious watch for me is the humble and accurate dress watch. This was not because the watch in question has a higher grade of fit and hand finishing, nor because it was made from more expensive materials. The reality is that I only have the opportunity to wear a dress watch when I am not on high alert. Only when I do not have to time an incident or accurately bill someone can I reach for a dress watch. Never mind not being able to wear a dress watch while in charge of humans who are scuba diving.
Many years ago, I bought this Omega Trésor to not only celebrate a loved one’s return home after a prolonged period of intensive care and recovery, but also in hopes that I could wear such a watch every day without concern.
The greatest luxury is not having to worry, be prepared to (literally) dive into a hostile environment, not forecast when the next time I will be vomited on, measure a medical exercise, or quantify an incident for a report. This is directly reflected in the watch I am afforded to wear on any given day.
So, if you see me wearing a dress watch on our next outing, take comfort in knowing that I am fully present, relaxed, and not simply waiting to be called upon into yet another taxing emergency.
A moment taken between unforeseen burdens.