I have my great-grandfather's cufflinks.
He was Thomas too — one of two Thomas' I'm named for. He spent most of his working life in jobs that didn't require a tie. But what he wanted more than almost anything, was a job where he could wear a suit.
He got there. And when he did, he marked the moment with cufflinks that his great-grandson still wears.
He had the instinct exactly right: presentation matters, how you show up in the world matters, a man should give a damn about how he looks. But that was where the framework ended for his generation. You got the suit. You got the cufflinks. And everything underneath — the skin, the maintenance, the actual work of taking care of yourself — that wasn't part of the deal. Nobody talked about it. The permission didn't exist.
He looked the part. He just didn't have the rest of it.
Three Generations of Men Getting Dressed
Over the last few weeks we've been talking about what the research actually says about living longer.
- Week one was how you plug into the world around you — exercise, pets, talking to strangers.
- Week two was how the world around you plugs into you — the women in your life who are doing invisible work that extends your longevity whether you notice it or not.
This week is the part that's entirely on you. And to explain it, I need to talk about three generations of men getting dressed in the morning.
Thomas's generation understood presentation. They polished their shoes. They wore hats. They marked milestones with cufflinks. What they didn't have was a framework for the maintenance underneath — the skin, the routine, the daily work of staying sharp. That wasn't masculinity. That was something women did.
My generation — Gen X, older millennials — backed into self-care through problems. You had acne, you got Clearasil. You got razor burn, you bought foam for "sensitive skin." The entry point was always a symptom, never a practice. We figured it out sideways, a little sheepishly, without much of a roadmap.
Gen Z men are doing something no man before has done. According to new research from BeautyMatter, Gen Z men are the first generation where skincare is the entry point into grooming. It's not shaving, not deodorant, not a problem to fix. They start with a cleanser. They view self-care as "preventative and expressive rather than corrective".
They simply start with skincare. No baggage attached.
Think about what that means. Three generations. Thomas had the instinct but not the tools or the permission. I had the tools but the permission only existed when I had a problem to solve. Gen Z woke up and the permission was just... already there.
We are the bridge generation. And I don't think most of us realize it.
What "Anti-Aging" Gets Wrong
The reason men of my generation came to self-care sideways is partly the language the industry used to talk to us. "Anti-aging." Fight it. Reverse it. Wage a war you WILL LOSE.
No wonder men opted out. I nearly did too.
But I realized eventually that all that time in the sun is going to catch up with me. I don't want to fight anything. I want to maintain what I've got.
The same way you maintain a car, a house, anything worth keeping in good condition. You don't change the oil because you're trying to make your car younger. You do it because a well-maintained machine runs better and lasts longer.
Same logic. Different application.
What you're actually optimizing for isn't "young." It's sharp. Rested. Healthy.
The Third Leg
Here's where I'm going to make the grooming pitch, because I own a grooming company and that's what I do. But I want you to hear it in context of everything we've been talking about for three weeks.
Varying your exercise extends your life. Social connection extends your life. The women in your world are doing invisible maintenance work on your behalf. All of that is real and it matters.
Self-care is the third leg of the stool. And here's the part men miss: it's not separate from health. It is health. The daily habit of showing up for yourself — washing your face, protecting your skin — is the same muscle you're building when you mix up your workouts or call your mom back. It's maintenance. It's respect for the asset. And unlike the other two legs, nobody else can do this one for you.
It doesn't have to be complicated. Four things, done consistently:
Face wash. Not with bar soap. With something designed for the job. Two minutes, morning and night.
Moisturizer. Daily. The single highest-return habit in men's grooming. Hydrated skin looks better, ages slower, takes about 30 seconds. There is no argument against this that holds up.
SPF. Every day, not just at the beach. UV exposure is the number one cause of visible aging in men. Thomas never wore sunscreen a day in his life. I can see it in the photographs.
An eye cream? The skin around your eyes is the first place age shows up. If you're adding one thing, this is where the return is highest.
Four things. Ten minutes a day.
What You Pass Down
Father's Day is next month. I've been thinking about what it means to pass something down, not just the cufflinks, but the complete story.
Thomas passed down the instinct. Show up. Look the part. Mark the moments that matter. That's not nothing. That's actually a lot.
We have that instinct. We also have the tools he never did.
The cufflinks are on my dresser. I don't wear them often enough. But when I do, I think about a man who wanted a job where he could wear a suit, and worked until he got there, and marked the moment. Eighty years later, I take pride in that. That's how you build legacy. And that is real longevity.
The Cufflinks on My Dresser
I have my great-grandfather's cufflinks.
He was Thomas too — one of two Thomas' I'm named for. He spent most of his working life in jobs that didn't require a tie. But what he wanted more than almost anything, was a job where he could wear a suit.
He got there. And when he did, he marked the moment with cufflinks that his great-grandson still wears.
He had the instinct exactly right: presentation matters, how you show up in the world matters, a man should give a damn about how he looks. But that was where the framework ended for his generation. You got the suit. You got the cufflinks. And everything underneath — the skin, the maintenance, the actual work of taking care of yourself — that wasn't part of the deal. Nobody talked about it. The permission didn't exist.
He looked the part. He just didn't have the rest of it.
Three Generations of Men Getting Dressed
Over the last few weeks we've been talking about what the research actually says about living longer.
This week is the part that's entirely on you. And to explain it, I need to talk about three generations of men getting dressed in the morning.
Thomas's generation understood presentation. They polished their shoes. They wore hats. They marked milestones with cufflinks. What they didn't have was a framework for the maintenance underneath — the skin, the routine, the daily work of staying sharp. That wasn't masculinity. That was something women did.
My generation — Gen X, older millennials — backed into self-care through problems. You had acne, you got Clearasil. You got razor burn, you bought foam for "sensitive skin." The entry point was always a symptom, never a practice. We figured it out sideways, a little sheepishly, without much of a roadmap.
Gen Z men are doing something no man before has done. According to new research from BeautyMatter, Gen Z men are the first generation where skincare is the entry point into grooming. It's not shaving, not deodorant, not a problem to fix. They start with a cleanser. They view self-care as "preventative and expressive rather than corrective".
They simply start with skincare. No baggage attached.
Think about what that means. Three generations. Thomas had the instinct but not the tools or the permission. I had the tools but the permission only existed when I had a problem to solve. Gen Z woke up and the permission was just... already there.
We are the bridge generation. And I don't think most of us realize it.
What "Anti-Aging" Gets Wrong
The reason men of my generation came to self-care sideways is partly the language the industry used to talk to us. "Anti-aging." Fight it. Reverse it. Wage a war you WILL LOSE.
No wonder men opted out. I nearly did too.
But I realized eventually that all that time in the sun is going to catch up with me. I don't want to fight anything. I want to maintain what I've got.
The same way you maintain a car, a house, anything worth keeping in good condition. You don't change the oil because you're trying to make your car younger. You do it because a well-maintained machine runs better and lasts longer.
Same logic. Different application.
What you're actually optimizing for isn't "young." It's sharp. Rested. Healthy.
The Third Leg
Here's where I'm going to make the grooming pitch, because I own a grooming company and that's what I do. But I want you to hear it in context of everything we've been talking about for three weeks.
Varying your exercise extends your life. Social connection extends your life. The women in your world are doing invisible maintenance work on your behalf. All of that is real and it matters.
Self-care is the third leg of the stool. And here's the part men miss: it's not separate from health. It is health. The daily habit of showing up for yourself — washing your face, protecting your skin — is the same muscle you're building when you mix up your workouts or call your mom back. It's maintenance. It's respect for the asset. And unlike the other two legs, nobody else can do this one for you.
It doesn't have to be complicated. Four things, done consistently:
Face wash. Not with bar soap. With something designed for the job. Two minutes, morning and night.
Moisturizer. Daily. The single highest-return habit in men's grooming. Hydrated skin looks better, ages slower, takes about 30 seconds. There is no argument against this that holds up.
SPF. Every day, not just at the beach. UV exposure is the number one cause of visible aging in men. Thomas never wore sunscreen a day in his life. I can see it in the photographs.
An eye cream? The skin around your eyes is the first place age shows up. If you're adding one thing, this is where the return is highest.
Four things. Ten minutes a day.
What You Pass Down
Father's Day is next month. I've been thinking about what it means to pass something down, not just the cufflinks, but the complete story.
Thomas passed down the instinct. Show up. Look the part. Mark the moments that matter. That's not nothing. That's actually a lot.
We have that instinct. We also have the tools he never did.
The cufflinks are on my dresser. I don't wear them often enough. But when I do, I think about a man who wanted a job where he could wear a suit, and worked until he got there, and marked the moment. Eighty years later, I take pride in that. That's how you build legacy. And that is real longevity.