A few months ago, while digging through my sock drawer looking for the ever elusive missing mate to one sock, I found something I hadn’t seen in years. What I found was my old watch. How old? Well, it was my first watch, so a sketchy memory with bad math dates it at about eighteen years old. When I was about seven years old, I remember I wanted a “grown-up” watch. What did that mean? I’m not sure, but my parents took it as “a watch with an hour, minute, and second hand.” So they purchased me a white-faced Timex Indiglo with a black leather strap. This watch was worn for quite awhile, but once the battery died, I must have thrown it in my sock drawer. But what was once lost is now found again, and this has become my everyday watch. The decrepit leather strap has since been replaced with a NATO strap (so I can look super cool amongst all other style bloggers). It’s not fancy. Hell, it’s even a little dorky with the push-button Indiglo feature. But that timepiece means a lot to me, and always will.