The only gift my dad ever bought me is still in my jewelry box. It died at 10 minutes to 11 decades ago, but the gold Caravelle watch keeps my dad alive. A watch isn't about keeping time. It's about stopping it.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I'm not much of a jewelry man. I don't even wear a watch half the time.
For my confirmation, I didn't get a watch and my first pair of long pants, like most Lutheran boys. I got a telescope. My mother thought it would make the best gift.
One of my most sentimental items is my grandmother's engagement ring that my mom gave me a few years ago. It's a Victorian-style setting that's closed in the back, so it doesn't sparkle the way diamonds do now. I wear it as a pendant.
Jewelery isn't really my thing, but I've always got my eye on people's watches.
A timeless piece of jewelry, like pearls or stud earrings, has lasting value. I bought a vintage ring for $600 with my first paycheck; I plan to pass it down to my daughter.
Watches are the only jewelry men can wear, unless you're Mr. T.
In 1966, I bought my parents a carriage clock for their silver wedding anniversary. It was last wound 30 years later, in December 1996, the month my father died.
I obviously have a great love and appreciation of jewelry, thanks to my mother, much to the dismay of both my father and my boyfriends.
I inherited my love of gold jewellery from my grandmother.
I'm very proud of my gold pocket watch. My grandfather, on his deathbed, sold me this watch.