Be A Boss Wear Heels.

If you follow me on social media, and why wouldn’t you, then you know that lately I have been in a major shoe mood. Even when I can not actually purchase the shoes I want, I still like to look at them and drool. You know what they say, “the higher the heel the closer to God!”

These are some of my favorite the most drool-worthy shoes this season!

 

Enjoy!

xx Keylee

Paris.

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 KeyleeStyle.com, 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 KeyleeStyle.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Self Love!

Valentines Day has never been a favorite holiday of mine. I think those feelings started in college when my boyfriend at the time waited so long to buy me flowers a flower that the only thing our local grocery store had was one that was mostly dead. My mother warned me he was lame. The only bright spot in my Valentines Day is my father! Every year since I was in Kindergarten he has sent me flowers. No matter where I am in the world, which let’s face it at times I can be tricky to locate, he always manages to find me and has flowers delivered!

When you are single Valentines Day can go one of two ways. You can hate the day and every happy in love person you encounter, giving dirty looks to anyone who looks remotely in love and you wearing all black. Or, you can join in on the love fest and celebrate those in you life you love- romantically or not! Celebrate your girlfriends, your sister, your best friend, and the woman you see every week at the dry cleaners, your nieces or nephews, and of course treat yourself with a little something special as well! I am a big believer in celebrating me all days of the year, especially on February 14th!

In the midst of this love fest holiday I will warn you of a few precautions you should take; steer clear of romantic restaurants, rom-coms, and most all of social media that day. You don’t have to hate the day but living everyone else’s romantic holiday when you are a single may cause nausea, vomiting, heavy drinking, and texting under the influence.

Love, Keylee

My Valentines Day Gift Guide for you or for someone you love:

He Said, She Said.

Well, I did it. I survived the first year of being single. My first Valentines Day, first birthday, first wedding anniversary, first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first New Years and finally my first year anniversary of walking out on the life I knew. I did it! Wahoo, my year of firsts was over! Then it occurred to me, now I have to have a year of seconds, and I was still single! Ugh! One of the ways I got through the first year was telling myself, “don’t worry next year will be different!” Would it really be or was I still lying to myself?

January had been a very tough month. While in New York for the Miss New York USA pageant, I got very sick. I called my super doctor in Beverly Hills and asked for my usual miracle cure cocktail; antibiotics strong enough to cure an elephant, pain-killers, steroid inhaler and the “really good” cough syrup. He told me he couldn’t prescribe a narcotic across state lines and that I needed to see a doctor in New York. Blah, so annoying, I didn’t have time to see a doctor, I had a hundred things to do before the pageant and being sick was not one of them.

Thank goodness Jack was there, I agreed to go to urgent care so I could get some meds. Jack drove me to the urgent care and I ended up in the emergency room. I found myself waiting in the hallway on a stretcher with Jack sitting at the end of my bed covering his face with his scarf; he looked a little like the paparazzi photos of Michael Jackson. After a chest x-ray and a few tests and a lot of waiting around, I found out I had come down with pneumonia, for the second time in my life. I was laid out on a stretcher and not even a cute doctor in sight! Jack filled out all of the paperwork and gave them my insurance info.

“Sorry ma’am, do you have another insurance card? This one is no good.” The admissions lady informed me as I lie in a hospital bed wishing I could just go home.

“Excuse me, what do you mean it is not good. We have insurance; you must have entered it wrong!” Jack said like the momma bear he was, his voice going into the higher pitch it reached when he was really getting angry.

The woman walked back and pretended she tried it again. When she walked back, she said, “I am sorry, this is no good” and shoved the card back to Jack.

“Where is my phone?” I said with as much energy as I could.

“Why?” Jack asked.

“Give it to me!” I snapped.

I started furiously texting my ex. “What the fuck! I am in the hospital and being told I have no health insurance, are you fucking kidding me??? After all the shit, you put me through and now I have to deal with this?”

He text back fairly quickly, acting concerned and confused. “What? Are you ok? What happened? Of course, you have insurance!”

“Well, I am being told I don’t, you need to fix this and fix it NOW!” I typed back.

“I will fix it! ARE YOU OK???” He demanded.

“I am fine, just get my insurance fixed!” I was in no mood to fill him in on personal details of my life, nor did I want his sympathy.

I had to sign my life away to get out of the hospital, but to be fair I found out I did have insurance. He had changed insurance plans, and I didn’t have the proper card. But it was his fault that I didn’t have the card, at least I did have some insurance though I would be paying off that ER visit for the next year.

We had just finished Miss California USA the weekend before, and the New York pageant was going to be even more work, it was a more green staff and I had spent months working on it. I was beside myself, thank God Jack was there. We left the ER, went to Walgreens for the usual; prescriptions, Kleenex (the hotel tissue was shit), Gatorade, saltine crackers, cough drops and gossip magazines. The doctor said I had to stay in bed and couldn’t leave my room. What? How the hell was I going to do that when I had a pageant to produce? I had two days until the girls checked in so I decided I would be totally well by then! Yes, it had been a rough year but I wasn’t in that bad of shape, I thought to myself. I was sure I would bounce back quickly; I survived the last year I could survive this.

As I lay in my hotel bed, which was only marginally more comfortable than the hospital stretcher, I found myself too tired to even operate the remote to turn the channel on my TV. Fuck, I was really sick! I hated being sick, especially away from home. I didn’t even have anyone to send me flowers or that I could call and complain about how sick I was. My business partner was nice about it, but I could tell he was stressed. I was staying in my room in order to not expose anyone else on staff and have them get sick!

As the days moved on, I wasn’t getting better. As contestants arrived, I told myself that I would stay in bed until competition night and then would feel better! Well, that wasn’t true either but after a couple of days the guilt and stress took over. I managed to take a shower and wash my hair; I had to lie back down after that. The most simple task simply exhausted me.

I finally made it the theatre where the pageant was being held and about half way through the first show and after finishing a bit of filming I had committed to doing. I had to go back; I was too sick. I felt so awful for leaving everyone else with all the work and not being there to the level I should have. I missed almost all of it; I missed most of the weekend.

At the end as sad as I was to miss the pageant, but I was happy it was over. I couldn’t wait to get home, I had less than a week before we left for Paris and I wasn’t about to be sick on that trip!

Ah, Paris. I was excited beyond description!

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 KeyleeStyle.com, 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 KeyleeStyle.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.