My personal style signifier is a watch. I’ve worn one since I was a little girl, when I had a Beauty and the Beast watch with a big plastic model of Belle’s head that flipped open to a digital display. Then we moved on to a grey and orange Timex. And now I have the world’s worst Rolex, a 1991 Air-King – but it was a Rolex and I bought it. I spent $3,600 exactly on it. This was six years ago, when I made my first big sale of a show: $65,000 to write something for a network. For me it was, like, a year’s salary, and I wasn’t sure how long it was going to last – should I just save all of it? I spoke to my therapist about it. I thought about it for a year. It’s the most I ever spent on anything, and I still do calculations, cost per wear. I wear it every day and, at this point, it’s only a dollar a day. I’m still justifying it and still enjoying it.
Hoffman’s 1991 Rolex Air-King © Julian Berman
I try to buy things in multiples of 18. Growing up Jewish, 18 means life. And multiples of 18 signify good luck. So 18, 36, 72, 90 – these are numbers that I buy things in. My watch was listed for $4,000. I just wrote them and said, “Any chance you could take $3,600?”
The thing I couldn’t do without is my agenda. It’s an extra-large Moleskine day planner. When I lived with my friend Steph Tolev, a fellow comedian, she had the small version of it, and she kept everything in writing. And as my life got busier, I realised that Google Calendar hasn’t perfected time zones. So sometimes we have to go back to basics. I get a new one every year. If it’s not in the book, it’s not happening. Mine is black, but I’ve been begging anyone who will listen at Moleskine to make an extra-large in green. And the extra-large isn’t large enough. I would love it to be the size of a regular piece of paper, 8.5in. It’s just for appointments; I would be writing forever if I wrote my thoughts, my reflections. That’s why I do stand-up, because I do thoughts and reflections and get paid for it, which is wonderful.
