Twenty Seconds Of Insane Courage.

After dinner with a friend it happened, my 20 seconds of total courage. I was in the elevator and gave a courtesy hello to the man that walked in with me. I usually never even look at the other person or people in an elevator with me. Once he said hello back, I couldn’t help but look. He was handsome, dressed in a black suit custom black suit, white shirt left slightly open with no tie, glasses, olive skin. More than his physical looks, he had that silent something. From the moment, he opened his mouth I could feel the electricity between us. We both found ourselves at the valet, and we tried to make small talk. I went to what I know, and since he was wearing the most beautiful pair of black Italian shoes I decided to comment. The best part was that he had different color laces, one that had come with the shoe in black and the other; he had obviously put the lace in the shoe himself, was blue. So I said that the obvious, “ I like your laces.”

He smiled slightly and said, “Yeah, well I need to take them to wardrobe and have them fix the lacing.”

“Well if we weren’t standing in a valet line I would fix them for you, it’s what I do for a living.” I quipped back.

“I’m Tony,” he said as he stuck out his hand.

“Hi, my name Keylee,” I replied.

He smiled at me, and the chemistry was strong I felt like the walls behind him were moving around us. You know, one of those moments when the world keeps moving, but you stand still? Suddenly my car pulled up.

“Is that your car?” He asked, knowing it wasn’t his.

“Yeah,” I said like I was thirteen years old.

“Too bad,” he replied.

“ Yeah, too bad,” I repeated. “Well, see you around.”

“I hope,” he replied with a slight smile.

Damn! I thought to myself. He was cute and nice, I wish the valet would have taken their time! Why did my car come so fast? As I pulled out of the garage, the attendant took my ticket. I could see another car pulling around, and I assumed it was his. I decided to be brave, I reached in my handbag and got a business card.

“There is going to me a handsome man in a black suit pulling out directly behind me, would you please give this to him?” I said to the attendant.

“Sure,” he answered clearly taken back a bit by my request.

I thanked him with a smile and pulled out of the garage. Go me, I thought to myself!

Within two minutes, my text alert went off on my phone. At the next stoplight I looked down, it was from a number I didn’t know, the text read; “The best move I have seen yet. Very smooth. I like it.”

My stomach flipped. I waited till I got home, only about 5 minutes, and text him back, “Thanks, I do what I can! It was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, maybe we could go to dinner sometime?” He shot back.

“Is that an invite?” I text.

“Yeah, I will text you tomorrow from set when I know my schedule. Have a good night.” He shot back.

I, of course, didn’t text him back, and the cynical part of me thought it would be the last time I would hear from him. The single hopeful part of me felt my stomach flip again. What does he mean, “on set?” Ugh, clearing he worked in the industry- blah. I had no interest in dating an actor!

The next morning I got out of bed with a bit of bounce in my step, patting myself on the back for my bold move! Even if nothing else happened, it was a good move.

By lunch, he had text me again asking me to dinner. I was leaving town for the weekend but said I would be back early the following week, and I would love to meet him for dinner. He text back, “great, I will make a plan and let you know.”

Again, history had taught me not to hold my breath but something about him was different. That weekend I was in Chicago for a girlfriends birthday, I mentioned my impending date but that I couldn’t figure out who he was. After a bit of research it landed, and I was in shock. He was not only a bi-costal restaurant owner he was also working in television though I was totally sure what his project was. Us girls were chatting about him over a few cocktails when one of the girls piped up, “isn’t he married?” “WHAT,” I shrieked. “Are you serious? I don’t think so. Maybe we have the wrong guy?” I said, praying I was right. Damn it Google image, it was no mistake that was Tony though I couldn’t find anything about a wife. I decided to change the subject and deal with this later.

When I got back to LA, all I could think about was Tony. About that time he text to confirm dinner. I agreed, and it suddenly occurred to me, maybe this is a business dinner. I mentioned that I was a stylist, and maybe he needs one. Maybe he has zero interest in me at all, and this is all about work. I decided to play it safe and pick a dress that was 90% businesswoman and 10% sexy businesswoman, a bold handbag and Louboutins to top off the look. It was perfect for my non-date/ possible business meeting evening.

When I walked into the restaurant, which I had never been to, the first thing I noticed was his face on a cookbook, front, and center. Wait, what? Did he ask me to dinner at his restaurant? Part of me sighed with relief; clearly this was a business meeting. When I told the host, I was there to meet Tony she immediately took me to a fabulous table and asked me to wait. Soon he showed up with a bottle of wine and sat down. I noticed his name was on the bottle, but I said nothing. We made small talk at first and when it was time to order, he asked what I liked. I told him just to order, he obviously knew the best things on the menu. The wine was amazing, the food was fabulous, and the conversation beat it all.

As we sat there, I went back and forth in my head. Date or meeting? Date or meeting? He told me he like my dress, totally a date! It felt like a date; the conversation was like a date, and I wanted to kiss him like it was a date. Then he turned the conversation to work, so maybe it was a meeting. I was confused.

Then the conversation turned back into a date, “so do you have any kids?” He asked.

I gave my standard date answer, “No, not yet, but I defiantly want a family.”

“Kids are the best,” he said.

“So you have kids?” I asked casually.

“Yeah I have two, they are amazing.” He said with a smile as he reached for his phone.

As he scrolled through photos of his two boys, one photo was with a woman that appeared to be a mom. “Is that his mom?” I asked.

“Yeah, that is my wife.” He said like it was no big deal.

Meeting, yep this is a meeting, this for sure is a meeting. Oh, shit I thought to myself I hope he doesn’t think that I think this is a date.

He went on, “we haven’t been married very long and are separated but are really good friends, so we are staying together for the boys. We don’t even really live together anymore.”

No, no, no, I said to myself. It doesn’t matter what he says; he is MARRIED! End of story.

As we finished dinner and walked to the valet, I handed them my ticket. As we stood waiting for my car, it felt like a date again. Something about his eyes was mesmerizing. As my car pulled up he gave me a hug, I thanked him for dinner, and we said goodbye. He got into his car, and I drove home. “DAMN IT,” I screamed in my car alone. I have a connection with this guy and of course he is fucking married! Sigh.

Single and Stylish,
xx Keylee

Give the attendant my business card was a bold move and if you know me I do love bold things. Nothing says bold like a bright red handbag! I am loving the new super bright orange-red and poppy red colors for summer!


*All of the events I have written about in the above and previous posts are about me, my life, my experiences and from my point of view.

© Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Ding Dong The Dickheads Dead!

It is a very surreal feeling to one day open your mail and get a notice from the state that your marriage is officially over. It is a true mix of emotions; happy, sad, elation, failure, success, motivation, excitement and so on. On March 18, 2013 I experienced that feeling (for the second time). I opened the papers telling me that as of March 14, 2013 I was officially and legally divorced – hallelujah! I also discovered that my x had not paid me the correct amount of settlement he owed me on top of that I still did not have my belongings back. I wanted my custom-made Chanel flats back, and I wanted them NOW!

I quickly sent out a group text to my close friends, letting them know the joyful news!

“Congrats!” “Can’t wait to celebrate!” “About fucking time!” were just a few of the cheerful responses I got. My favorite though was “Ding Dong the Dickheads Dead!” LOL, it still makes me giggle when I say it in my head, singing it like the Wizard of Oz original!

In light of this financial discovery, I called my lawyer and asked him what I should do. I made the phone call as quickly as possible; I had been very happy not paying him for the last few months, but I needed a word of advice. He suggested I try to resolve the matter directly with my x, via email, and if that didn’t work he would be happy to draft a letter and alert the court.

So I did just that. I constructed a very civil email stating that I needed my items back as soon as possible and that according to our final papers I was due additional money. He didn’t owe me that much money, but my settlement was such joke anyway, and I wanted to make sure I got all of it! He replied the next day letting me know that he was very busy. He was getting quotes from movers and would let me know shortly but he was sure to tell me that he was traveling a lot for work so it might take a while. Of course, sure I thought, it had only been 14 months, and I can totally see how he would need some more time to return things that didn’t belong to him! What a jerk I thought to myself but decided not to be a bitch about it. You get more bees with honey, right? I simply wrote him back to say that I understand he is busy, but I need the money, which he didn’t address at all in his reply, and my belongings back as soon as possible.

He sent me an email a few days later, telling me how tight money was for him right now. He also didn’t like the quotes he and been given by movers, so he was looking for a few more. I replied with a short and curt email stating that I would hate to have to get our lawyers involved. He quickly shot back an email expressing his hatred for my lawyer and his inability to bay any additional billable hours to his legal team.

The next day I was flying to Scottsdale to spend time with my family and our close friends. It was spring break for my nieces, and I couldn’t wait to see them. I was filling my family in on the great news about my divorce and mentioned that he still owned me money and my things. I followed up by telling them that I was looking at the bright side and focusing on how happy I was now that I was officially divorced. I also said that I was handling it myself, so I didn’t have to pay my lawyer again. Suddenly I noticed that my father was turning a shade of red I had never seen. When I asked what was wrong, he said this, “I am sick and tired of this shit and you being jerked around by him. Look, he returns your belongings and pays you your money right now, or I am taking over. My lawyer will handle the case, and I will keep his ass in court just for fun if I have to. Tell him I said that!” Damn I love my dad!

I have to admit that my parents had been wonderful during my divorce and, at my request, had let me handle it. It was my mistake, and I needed to figure it out myself and up until now I had been doing a pretty good job. I had only seen that look in my dad’s eye a few times, and I knew he meant business. It told him how thankful I was for his support but asked that he let me speak to my x before his lawyer did anything. He agreed.

After dinner that night I decided to write him another email, I got the point right away. I also cc’d my father. The email was something like this;

Dear x.

Good news, I agree, I would hate to have our lawyers get involved as well and to be honest I don’t’ want to deal with my lawyer either. The bad news for you is that it wouldn’t be my lawyer, it will be my fathers. He has stayed away from our divorce, per my request, but that is not the case any longer. I either have my belonging delivered to LA, and your payments brought current by the end of the month or legal actions will be taken. My father will control and fund all legal expenses on my end from this time forward. It has taken a ridiculous amount of time for you to send my things, and I am done waiting. I am sorry it has come to this. Please let me know your arrangements as you as you make them.


Well, within three days I had a check bringing his payments current, and I had a scheduled date to receive my things from the movers he miraculously found. It was a miracle- LOL.

Standing on the sidewalk of a Public Storage is not my idea of a fun time. As the unmarked moving truck pulled up, and I met the men who had my life in their hands, I got a sick feeling in my stomach. As they began to unload my life that was packed in boxes and wheel it into a storage unit I started to feel light-headed. Jack told me to sit on the curb and take a rest, even more glamorous than standing on the sidewalk. As I watched, things being rolled off the back of the truck I could tell things were missing. My coffee table, an area rug, my couch, etc. but at that moment I didn’t even care- I just wanted it over. Once they had finished loading the unit, Jack asked if I wanted to look to make sure everything was there. I told him to lock the door, we were leaving, I didn’t even want to look at the stuff.

When I asked the head guy what I needed to sign to get out of there, he said, “I was the guy who picked up all of these things from your husband.”

“Ex- husband,” I quickly corrected him.

He went on to say, “you know I think he really misses you. The way he talks about you, you can tell he still loves you, you know. He said he wished you didn’t move out.”

Trying not scream in the nice mans face I simply signed my name and said, “well then you can tell him he shouldn’t have had a girlfriend the entire time we were together and married.”

I couldn’t even look him in the eye, I took my copy of whatever it was I had signed and walked to my car. How dare he tell me that my husband misses me?? What fucking business is it of his? He had a lot of nerve, and he better be glad I had taken an emotional kick in the gut that day and wasn’t up to my full strength.

Single & Stylish,
xx Keylee


*All of the events I have written about in the above and previous posts are about me, my life, my experiences and from my point of view.

© Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Last Time I Was Happy.

Sam and I were having an amazing time together, but as the fun times increased so did my insecurities. My insecurities and the questions, my head was about to explode with questions. Over the next couple of days, Sam and I had dinner with friends, a romantic night out at my favorite restaurant in town, and he even convinced me to ski again the next day. Considering I usually only skied tone two days all year, this was a huge accomplishment.

After our second day of skiing, we were sitting at the bottom of the mountain having a lovely bottle of rose and Sam got up to make a phone call. As he walked away, I was letting the sunshine beam on my face but as I watched him pace with the phone to his ear, my mind started wondering and the questions started flooding in. Does he like me? Does he want a girlfriend? Do I want a boyfriend? Do I want to be with one person? In the end, the two biggest questions were this, “Do I want to date Sam? Will I ever be a priority to him?” In my heart, I knew the answers. I loved the “idea” of him and no, I would not be his priority- ever.

When it came to Sam, I had to stop and realize that I was having moments of happiness, and that was great progress for me! No matter what my feelings were, up or down I felt lucky just to be having feelings! So I told myself to stop with the questions and just go with it.

After Sam had flown back to LA, the questions in my head and insecurities got worse, and I spiraled into a bad place. Ted, my pseudo brother, and I were sitting at the bar one night and as we started talking the conversation turned to my ex. They had been friends and, to be honest; I was asking a few too many questions. The type of questions, I didn’t really want to know the answers to but after two martinis, I asked anyways. I asked if my x was dating and Ted was honest, as he always was and said yes. A few moments later I couldn’t hold it back, I could feel my eyes getting hot. Ted got up use the restroom, and I dashed out of the bar, I didn’t’ want anyone to see me cry. So I, of course, did the rational drunk girl thing and decided to walk home. I walked home in the dark in the winter in the snow which I now admit was not very smart. It was only 10 or so blocks away, but I fell twice, in my full-length fur coat, which only made me want to cry more. It was not my finest moment.

I laid in bed thinking about how my x was out in the world dating and living his life and though my life appeared to be in a good place, I was riddled with insecurities. Part of me was thrilled he had moved on, and his focus was no longer on me, yet somehow I didn’t think he deserved to be dating. In what dimension was it fair that he was dating and happy, and I was still trying to find my way? As I laid in bed and looked at the ceiling, I thought about him being happy, this made me angry. All I could think about was that I wanted to be happy so bad, and somehow I couldn’t figure out how to get there. He on the other hand had moved on, most likely lying to another woman, but I assumed it made him happy. I asked myself, when was the last time I was honestly happy? Sure I had had moments of happiness over the past year but had I been truly happy over an extended period? Not really.

The answer didn’t come as easy as I would have liked and I didn’t know if it was truly the last time I was happy but my trip to New York in February of 2011 popped into my head. There is something magical about New York City in the snow, especially when you live in Los Angeles. I had flown in on Monday for a few work meetings and to spend time with friends. My x would be arriving later in the week for events surrounding the opening of his East Coast office. All of my meetings in the days leading up to his arrival had gone flawlessly; I was on a huge high and very optimistic about my career. His work events were of huge importance, so I made sure all of my work and other commitments were finished prior to his arrival, I wanted to be totally available for him.

Friday night was the opening party at the The Campbell Apartment. Not only was I excited for the event but I was, of course, excited about my look. I planned to wear my chocolate leather dress; it was a top five favorite of mine.

The whole evening was perfect. We laughed and flirted in between him working the room and introducing me to more people than I could ever remember. He was king of the night, and I was thrilled to be on his arm. Afterward, we went to dinner with everyone from the home office and long after the clock struck midnight we decided to head back to the hotel. My feet were exhausted and when he was ready to call it a night I realized that I couldn’t wait to get back to our room snuggle with my man. It had been a really happy trip on all fronts.

That night before we turned in he mentioned that if I wanted to ditch my commercial flight I could join the others and fly home on one of the company planes. I jumped at the opportunity to leave earlier and fly back private. As I got ready for bed I smiled to myself thinking about how lucky I was to have such a wonderful guy, he was so thoughtful! I went to sleep that night just beaming.

I would later learn that he put me on that morning flight because Katy was flying to New York that afternoon. I know this because she posted photos of them on a carriage ride in Central Park. When I found the photos on her Facebook page, a year later, it was stamped with the date, the same date I left New York. When I confronted him with this photo he said she showed up unexpectedly, but he had asked her to leave. This made me laugh, did he ask her to leave in a horse carriage? By the giant smile on both of their faces in the photo, it sure as hell didn’t look like she was leaving.

Then and there, as I laid in bed a year later, I decided to make every effort to be happy. When I returned to LA, from Aspen, I still held a small bit of hope that Sam and I would date. He didn’t call and after day two of him knowing I was home and not calling I assumed he wasn’t interested, so I deleted his number from my phone. I didn’t want to be tempted to text him or call him. Three days later he called, and since he wasn’t listed in my phone I didn’t recognize the number and answered the phone. Had I known it was him, I would have screened and let it go to voicemail.

He seemed a bit offended when I asked who it was; that made me feel a little bit better. He made mostly small talk except to tell me he was in the airport and thinking of me. I was so over it at this point. It was just additional proof to me that everything was all about him. I was so sick of this type of selfish man, but the real question as, why did I keep dating them?

Single & Stylish

xx Keylee

*All of the events I have written about in the above and previous posts are about me, my life, my experiences and from my point of view.

© Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


What can I say? It is my favorite city in the world, the most romantic, energizing, fascinating city I have ever been to. I was thrilled to be going. We a stop in London and then took the Euro Star train to Paris. I had never taken this route, and I loved it. I had always flown from city to city and the English and French countryside beautiful as we traveled.

My business partner, Jack, and our two other colleges were traveling. It was our end of the year trip to celebrate and a fabulous excuse to go to Paris. The first time I went to Paris was with my best friend and business partner, on the flight over he asked me a question.

“Do you know why I am taking you to Paris?” he asked.

“Because you wanted to go, and I was a good excuse,” I answered.

“I am taking you to Paris because the first time you go you should go with a man who will love you forever.” He said.

He was gay and fabulous, and my soul mate, or I thought so at the time.

My first trip to this magical city was beyond my imagination. I had dreamed my entire life of going to Paris, and everything was magical. For this reason, my second trip made me even more excited. I knew what was in store and how much I loved it. It was the same feeling you have at Christmas as you await the arrival of your family, the greatest feeling of anticipation.

We flew over on a red eye, which is the best way to go. A meal, my bed, was made, and I was out. We all woke up and had been transported to London.

London was great. Historical sites, Singin In The Rain at the theater, shopping, and pubs… but I couldn’t wait to get to Paris. As we headed to our train, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I had not been to the city in 8 years, and I wondered if I would love it as much as I did the first time. I wondered if I had built it up in my head to a point that I would be disappointed when I actually arrived. I was not. It was more new spectacular than I had remembered though I still hope to return with someone I love.

Chanel, Hermes, Christian Louboutin, Jean Paul Gaultier and, of course, the famous Paris flea market Porte de Clignancourt, which is what I imagine heaven to look like. Row after row of shops, big and small, and vendors all selling fabulously vintage Parisian goods. I went with two goals; one, see as much jewelry as I can and two; find something that can be in my home and remind me of Paris every day. One entire store is nothing but Chanel jewelry, you must be buzzed in through the gates and can take no pictures. Some have grand vintage display cases, and some only have tables set up with their goods. I did pick up a few amazing trinkets; a vintage Christian Lacroix gold ID bracelet that I later found out had a matching choker that belonged to Rihanna, some great costume pieces, and a piece of art that I will treasure forever.

When I left for Paris my mother said to me, “buy something that takes your breath away!” She is full of good advice! After a few days in Paris I found it; I was walking by a super snotty vintage shop and the Dior gown in the window caught my eye. The construction was impeccable, the fabric was perfectly preserved, the design was timeless. When the shop keep asked if I wanted to try anything on I said, “no thank you, I don’t have the figure to wear vintage clothing.” I thought he was going to kick me out of the store. He was seriously the only rude person I have ever met in France. Then just as I was about to leave I spotted it, a vintage Chanel leather jacket. It was so delicious I couldn’t resist trying it on. It was a serious Cinderella moment; it fit me like a glove! Never in my life has a vintage piece of clothing fit me so perfectly, and it was CHANEL!!!! All the original buttons, braided leather trim, not even a scratch on the leather. I couldn’t tell if the piece had even been worn, I decided then and there this would be the piece I would buy, that was until I looked at the price. It was more than a months rent for me. I wanted it so badly, but I knew it was not the smart move. I had already been spending money in Paris like I actually had some disposable income. I sadly asked for the gentleman’s card and put the jacket back on the rack. I knew not buying the jacket would haunt me for years!

On the way back to our flat, I stopped into the most amazing little lingerie boutique and decided to cheer myself up with some sexy pieces. I had no idea who I would wear them for, but I figured it was like Field Of Dreams, if I bought/ wore it they would come! For two days I couldn’t stop thinking about this jacket, I caught myself talking about it at great length. As we prepared for our last night out on the town and packed up our things, my best friend called me upstairs. He said he had something for me to pack in my suitcase and hands me a white paper shopping bag. As I asked what was in it, I opened the bag at the same time. Before he could answer I just started screaming. I couldn’t believe it, it was the Chanel jacket! I had never owned a piece of Chanel clothing, and this one was so special. It is one of my most treasured pieces!

As we left Paris, I was anxious to get home, which was a new feeling for me. I thought that it would be a good time to start over. The pageants were over, my boy slate was clean and I was going to move full steam ahead.

The day we were leaving I got a text from Sam, “Hey, how are you?” It was so odd; I hadn’t spoken to him in over two months, after I had called to let him know I had accidently had dinner with his ex-wife.

That past December my girlfriend from New York was in town, and though I was beyond tired that night, she had asked me to dinner with her and two girlfriends. I am sitting at dinner next to a lovely woman, and we all begin to talk about being single and dating. She mentioned how difficult it was to date with kids, due to schedules and such. I said that I didn’t have kids, but I had dated someone with children and I remember it always a hurdle. When she brought up her children, two girls, and a boy, I said “Oh the guy I dated had two girls and a boy, how funny.” Pretty soon we were ordering another round of cocktails and having a great time. As the conversation moves on we begin to talk about being divorced, she had not one negative thing to say about her husband but my girlfriend was clearly not a fan of his. After the mention of what he did for a living, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I casually asked to see photos of her children and as she turned her phone around to show me a few pictures I nearly knocked over my drink. They were Sam’s kids! How the fuck did I end up at dinner with Sam’s ex-wife??? I took a giant swig of my cocktail and decided to excuse myself to use the restroom; I was sweating like a whore in church. As I got up from the table, my large designer (expensive) cuff bracelet fell off of my arm. She was kind enough to pick it up and as she handed it back to me she said, “Oh, I love this. I have always wanted one.” I just looked at her with a “holy shit” smile and said, “Oh thanks, it was a gift.” What I left out was that it was a gift from her ex-husband!

I got the bathroom and started dialing everyone I knew, what are the freaking chances! I thought about faking ill and having a waiter send a note to the table, but that would be lame. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, “I can do this, we are all grown ups. There is no way she would be able to figure it out, it is not like Sam and I were ever serious.” As I walked back to the table I had calmed down and stopped sweating. By the time I got back the girl talk had turned to the topic of sex.

Shit! Suddenly my new BFF was talking about her preferences and how sex with her husband had been, etc., etc., etc. It was horrifying! I decided to stop drinking for fear that I would overmedicate and begin talking about things I shouldn’t. Sex with Sam had always been fine but he was a man of the same three moves over and over, I was just waiting for her to say the same thing… but thank you lord she never did.

As I left dinner, I immediately dialed Sam. We had taken a group photo and I she had mentioned that she was going to post it on social media. I wasn’t with Sam, but I didn’t want him to hear it from someone else, and so I thought the mature thing to do was call him. The phone rang, and he didn’t pick up, so I left a message. “Hey, it’s Keylee. I just had dinner with your ex-wife on accident, and I must say she is lovely. Just wanted to let you know. Bye.” He was clearly screening because he called me back very quickly. “You what??? How??? Why???” He said with panic in his voice. When I explained the story, he wanted to know every detail of the night. I told him to chill out, I hadn’t said anything, and I had no plans too!

But what did he want now? Why was he texting me again?

Single & Stylish,

xx Keylee

One of the best things about Paris is the flawless style the women have! Simple, polished, timeless and flawless.

*All of the events I have written about in the above and previous posts are about me, my life, my experiences and from my point of view.

© Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Keylee Sanders, Style Studio LLC and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.