5 Status Symbols That Age Like Milk (And What to Choose Instead)

Good morning {{first_name|Reader}}.

There are things people chase to look successful. And then there are things people own because they actually are successful.

The gap between those two is widening. Status symbols that used to signal "I made it" now signal "I'm financed to the teeth and don't know the difference."

I drive a 2020 Prius with 90,000 miles. I own a Rolex Explorer II. I live in 1,500 square feet with a family of five. Our net worth continues to grow. I wake up at 4:09 AM to work out and to write this newsletter. I don't post on Instagram or TikTok.

None of that makes sense to people chasing the wrong signals. Here are five status symbols that aged like milk, and what to choose instead.

(This is the article I found that inspired this post)

If you can't buy it in cash, you can't afford it. Especially when it's a rapidly depreciating asset that locks you into years of payments.

Auto debt in the U.S. is around $1.6 trillion. Cars are now one of the biggest wealth killers for the American middle class. And people are signing 7-year, sometimes 8-year, notes to drive something that loses 20% of its value the second they leave the lot.

A financed car is just a future you already sold. If the bank owns your car, the bank owns your time.

I bought my Prius in cash when we moved to Alaska. AWD. Gets 54 MPG. Handles snow like a champ. Toyotas last. It's tight, but it fits my whole family. And I don't have a car payment eating $600-$800 a month for the next seven years.

What would I do with an extra $600/month? Roth IRA contributions. Index funds. Watch fund. Literally anything other than paying interest to a bank for a depreciating asset.

What to choose instead: Buy something reliable and affordable in cash. A used Toyota. A Honda with 100K miles. Something that starts every time and doesn't own you. Your car should get you to work, not keep you working.

People under self-uncertainty and status anxiety lean harder into conspicuous consumption and loud logos. Research shows loud branding usually signals insecurity, while quiet branding signals genuine confidence.

Gucci belts with the big logo. Supreme box logos on everything. Canada Goose jackets in places that aren't even cold. I saw a Canada Goose store for the first time a few weeks ago and literally rolled my eyes. (I had to Google what this store was)

Your clothing and accessories should represent you, not the other way around. If you're a billboard for another business, you're the product.

I wear Walmart workout gear in my garage gym. I own some Lululemon that I wear at home in the garage gym and no one sees it. I wear Salomon shoes that have been all over the world with me—jungles, mountains, snow. They work. That's all that matters.

My backpack is a brand no one's ever heard of, but it's the best bag I've ever used and it's been around the world with me. (Reply to this email if you want to know what it is. Maybe I'll share.)

In watch terms, this is the difference between Hublot (loud, expensive, screams for attention) and a vintage Rolex with no flashy logos. Or a Grand Seiko. Or a Nomos. Watches that whisper instead of shout.

Function over form. Gear that lasts decades. Minimal or no logos. That's the move.

What to choose instead: Buy things that work, last, and don't announce themselves. If it's well-made and fairly priced, it doesn't need a logo the size of your chest to prove it. And don’t tell anyone about it, see point 4.

Bigger TV, smaller life.

Electronics spending is a prime site of status competition, especially among higher-earning dads making tech decisions when kids are in the home. The endless tech upgrade cycle is just another treadmill that keeps you working for longer. More inches, more features, same couch, same life.

We have a TV in our living room. It's from 2015. It works. We barely use it (except for Dancing With The Stars) except for maybe an hour a day.

You know what we do instead? Read. Lift. Build. Spend time with our kids before they're gone. The TV isn't the center of our home. It's just there.

One TV, barely used, means more time doing things that actually matter. Sitting on your ass watching it is likely not adding much value to your life.

What to choose instead: Get rid of the TV, or put it on a timer so it shuts off after a certain amount of time. Redirect that time to reading, working out, building something, or being with your family. Time watching TV is time you'll never get back.

Heavy social media use is linked to materialism, compulsive buying, and impulsive spending. Exactly the behavior that keeps people broke.

If it isn't making you money or making you better, why are you posting it?

It’s everywhere. Phones up at concerts. No one actually there. Everyone collecting proof, not memories. Posting every meal, every purchase, every minor win because they need the validation more than enjoying the experience.

I don't post on Instagram or TikTok. I’d like to and I’ve tried, but I'm a private person. I know I could grow this newsletter faster with more social media. I refuse.

Own The Watch is work, not a flex. This newsletter exists to help people see things differently than the consumerist society forced on them through social media. I'm not posting my kids. I'm not posting my watches (except on WatchCrunch). I'm not posting my workouts.

The difference: sharing to build a business and serve an audience vs. flexing to feel something.

What to choose instead: Stop posting your life for validation. If you're building something, share the work. If you're just flexing, you're wasting time. Use social media as a tool, not a dopamine slot machine.

Occupational prestige and fancy titles can have some psychosocial benefits, but they don't guarantee freedom—and they often come with more demands and stress.

Maybe your company gave you a special title instead of a raise to get more work from you for the same money.

If your new title doesn't come with more money or more autonomy, it's not a promotion. You’re being used.

I see this on LinkedIn every day. Made-up titles that sound important but mean nothing. "Chief Happiness Officer." "Innovation Catalyst." "Growth Hacker." If you can't explain your job to a 5-year-old and have them understand it, you just made some shit up to sound important.

In watch terms, this is like buying a big, overspec'd watch nobody needs just because it has complications you'll never use. Compare that to a simple, robust piece that works for your life, no frills, just function.

What to choose instead: Chase autonomy and money, not titles. A title that doesn't come with a raise or more control over your time is worthless. Work optional is the real flex, not "Senior Vice President of Strategic Initiatives."

Here's what actually matters:

Don't let your car own you. Buy something reliable and affordable in cash. The difference between a $600/month car payment and $0/month is $7,200/year. That's a Roth IRA almost maxed out. That's freedom compounding while you drive something that just works.

Don't be a billboard. Your clothing and accessories should represent you, not make you represent them. Function over logos. Get gear that lasts over gear that shouts.

Get rid of the TV (or limit it). Sitting on your ass watching it isn't adding value. Redirect that time to reading, lifting, building, or being with your kids. Time is the only resource you can't get back.

Stop posting for validation. If it's not making you money or making you better, don't post it. Use social media as a tool to build something, not as a dopamine machine.

Chase autonomy, not titles. If your job title doesn't come with more money or more time freedom, move on, or stop telling people about it. Work optional is the goal, not a business card that sounds important.

Every dollar you spend on status is a dollar you're not investing in time. Every hour you spend maintaining the image is an hour you're not building the reality.

Wealth whispers. Status screams. Choose accordingly.

Reply to this email and tell me which one you're guilty of. We've all chased the wrong thing at some point. The question is: are you still doing it, or are you choosing better?

Time is wealth. Spend it like it.

—Ian