The Anti-Status Watch: Why Men in Finance Love Cheap, Cheesy Watches

How do you tell the time? Neal W. McDonough, the COO of a finance and policy startup in Ho-Ho-Kus, N.J., looks to Charlie Brown, the loveable, miserable “Peanuts” protagonist. An illustration of the character occupies the exec’s watch dial, Brown’s stout arms acting as the minute and hour hands.

McDonough, 55, bought the kooky Timex for a Valentine’s Day trip about five years ago, along with a matching model depicting Lucy van Pelt (Brown’s frenemy) for his then-girlfriend. To his surprise, he kept wearing the $150-ish ticker after the trip. “It’s now my business watch,” he said, adding that such a non luxury model can telegraph that he’s under no obligation to be flashy. “I have nothing to prove to anyone,” he said. “And the fun thing is, a lot of people notice [my watch].”

Though finance guys famously flaunt Rolexes or Patek Philippes on their wrists, an established subspecies of money men goes the other way entirely. In place of a sleek steel case and elegant ceramic dial? Mickey Mouse. SpongeBob SquarePants. Fanta-orange rubber straps.

Over the years, highfliers have made headlines for sporting Swatches. (See: Blackstone Group CEO Stephen A. Schwarzman or former Goldman Sachs CEO Lloyd Blankfein .) That “wealthy guy, cheap watch” ethos continues to resonate in boardrooms and on trading floors, with men of all seniority levels embracing plasticky, offbeat designs, from superhero models to calculator Casios. Many resemble something you might win in a claw machine. Priced from $30 to a few hundred bucks, they’re a bit of fun and a different sort of flex, conveying an “I don’t need a Rolex” bravado that comes from having made it. Call them anti-status watches.

Patrick Lyons, the managing partner of a family office in New York, rotates two contrasting watches: a 1988 Santos de Cartier and a Nickelodeon “SpongeBob SquarePants” model with a tangerine strap.

The Cartier, a family heirloom, is a slice of French sophistication; the Nickelodeon dial features a giant image of a pink starfish named Patrick Star who lives under a rock. Lyons, 35, likes that the second watch is idiosyncratic—and that its starfish shares his name. “I wear that more often than my Cartier,” he said, adding that he hopes to pass down both models to future offspring.

Leroy Dikito, 42, an executive director at JPMorgan Chase in New York, chose his $450 “Avengers” watch from Citizen because it reminds him of his father, who loved comic books. Though its stainless-steel strap reads urbane enough, its cheerfully garish dial slices together images of the Hulk, Iron Man, Captain America and other superheroes. Working in finance, you need to be “serious all the time,” so a fun watch brings welcome levity, said Dikito. “People need to know there is more than the big job and the title.”

Since a suit can only inject so much color, a watch offers that rare opportunity to “show off your personality,” said Eli Tenenbaum, 36, the director of corporate development for a New York private-equity firm. Plus, he noted, “If you wear a fancy watch, chances are someone else may be wearing the same one.” Tenenbaum runs little risk of twinning with a colleague when he straps on his Mickey Mouse or Snoopy Swatches, worn with premium Brioni or Zegna suits.

Evan Vladem, 37, considers his Casio calculator watch a neat “ice breaker” when schmoozing, a professional obligation for the partner at a financial advisory in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. “It came in handy to break up awkward moments,” he said of the black, $30-ish design, a Casio classic. At a dinner with an insurance partner a few years ago, he recalls, the conversation petered out after an exchange about a client’s situation, which involved some financial arithmetic. “I pulled out my wrist and said, with a smile, ‘Well, I’m happy I have my trusty calculator watch to help me here,’” said Vladem. “We both laughed. [It] kicked off another conversation.”

Even men who have invested heavily in high-end horology seem to be falling for cheap, kitschy designs. Scott Jay Kaplan, 44, a film producer and financier for Brooklyn company CoverStory, owns pricey models from Rolex and Audemars Piguet. But for daily wear he’s currently favouring a super-chunky $25 watch he bought in Argentina this past winter, a model similar to a G-Shock but by an unfamiliar brand. He says he has received a lot of compliments on it, and it has held up surprisingly well. “I bought it because it looked silly,” he said. “Not for clout.”

McDonough, the Charlie Brown fan, urges anyone considering a novelty ticker to follow just one rule: Don’t splurge. “I think the whole idea of luxury watch brands coming out with ‘kitsch’ watches is…a little bit absurd,” he said. “So anything over, say, $500 would be out.”

Prop styling by Marina Bevilacqua

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The idea of wallpaper elicits so much apprehension in homeowners, New York designer Francis Toumbakaris purposely uses the term “wallcovering” when speaking to clients about it. Yet decorating websites and media accounts teem with instances of the stuff. “It transforms a room and gives it personality,” said Casey Keasler, founder of design studio Casework, in Portland, Ore.

So what keeps folks from hanging the gorgeous material, and how do homeowners get over these wallpaper willies? Here, some case studies of conversions.

Hangup: It’s too pricey.

Budget concerns can hamstring homeowners. Home-services company Angi estimates that wallpaper can cost as much as $12 a square foot for labor and materials, while painting tops out at $6. “If the wall surface needs work beforehand, prices go up,” said Bethany Adams, an interior designer in Louisville, Ky. And Keasler notes that paper can cost as much as $400 a roll.

Antidote: Baby steps

New York designer Tara McCauley says homeowners can get more hang for their buck by using paper strategically. In an apartment in Brooklyn whose homeowners sweated the bottom line, she coated only the hallway with a dark-blue pattern inspired by Portuguese tiles. “It added so much impact,” McCauley said of the modest use. The designer adds that another way to save money is by hanging what she calls the gateway drug to wallpaper: patternless grass cloth. With no need to align a motif, the material goes up quickly and costs less to install, she says, “but it adds visual depth in a way plain paint never could.”

Hangup: I’ll get sick of it

A fear of commitment stops many would-be wall paperers, who worry about having a change of heart later. Erik Perez, a design publicist with his own firm in Los Angeles, campaigned hard for what he thought was the perfect old-Hollywood look for his and his husband’s dining room—a maximalist, leafy green wallpaper made famous by the mid-20th-century decoration of the Beverly Hills Hotel. His husband, Paul Hardoin, a voice-over actor, resisted. “Is it going to go out of style? Will I tire of it? Will it affect resale value?” he worried.

Erik Perez, right, and his husband, Paul Hardoin, in their Los Angeles dining room, clad in CW Stockwell’s Martinique paper. Photo: Julie Goldstone for WSJ

Antidote: Low-use spaces

Infrequently used rooms can carry a bold choice long-term. Of the Brooklyn hallway she wrapped in blue, McCauley noted, “It’s a pass-through, so you don’t get overwhelmed by a bold pattern.” Ditto powder and dining rooms, like that of Perez, who said, “We only used that room when we were entertaining and it was too cold to be outside.”

It took three years, but Hardoin caved when the banana-leaf pattern became available in blue. “I thought it looked cool,” Hardoin said. He took the leap, knowing his sister Annette Moran (a wallpaper enthusiast) would be their DIY installer. “Now it’s the happiest room in the house,” he said.

Hangup: It’s dated

When Sarah and Nate Simon bought a historic home in Louisville, Ky., the walls sported oppressively dark patterns, including big, repeating medallions set in a grid. Sarah recalls thinking, “ ‘Not this! What’s the opposite of this?’ In my mind that would be paint.” Even for folks who haven’t pulled down awful examples, “the word ‘wallpaper’ can take them back to flowery patterns of the ’50s and ’60s that feel very dated,” said Toumbakaris.

Antidote: Modernity

“Wallpaper does not mean what it used to. It can be meandering, abstract, ombre or sisal,” said Simon’s interior designer, Bethany Adams. She suggested a sophisticated Chinoiserie that New York designer Miles Redd, in a collaboration with Schumacher, updated with an aqua colorway. Adams explains that like most Chinoiseries, this pattern doesn’t repeat for more than 8 feet. “You get a peripatetic design that keeps the eye engaged,” she said. “It’s looser.” Said Simon of her dining room today, “It’s a complete transformation, like art on my walls.”

Stereotypes of fusty florals and pitiless patterns fall away when designers present homeowners with contemporary picks. Still, sometimes the conversion takes time. One of Keasler’s clients, gun-shy after removing old paper, came back a year later, ready. “We chose a clean classic style that was graphic and minimal for a modern edge in the bathroom,” said the designer.