Blondes: four shades of fair, laid side by side like swatches on a fitting table
A blonde set is small in any honest edit, and ours holds four. What earns it a page is how little the four resemble one another once they are side by side: one fair and windblown, one a deep and deliberate gold, one the colour of good honey, one closer to caramel. We have laid them out the way a fashion desk lays out swatches, each shade pinned beside a note on the woman who wears it.
All four are between twenty-six and thirty, and each colour is written down as Rosie saw it on the day they met, never as a flattering photograph might suggest. If a shade changes, the note changes with it.
Blondes, in the edit
Swatch one, sailcloth: Cindy
Cindy wears her blonde long and wavy, the texture of someone who spends weekends on the water and has stopped arguing with the breeze. Clear blue eyes, a slim 168 cm frame. She sails, keeps a yoga practice going through every season and still loads her camera with film, so an evening in her company may open on the river path at Chelsea Bridge with the lens trained on the last of the light. She lives in Chelsea, a short stroll from Sloane Square.
Swatch two, gilt: Nancy
Nancy is the richest gold of the four, her hair falling well past her shoulder blades, with blue eyes and a curvy figure at 170 cm. She swims in open water, will drive anywhere given half a reason and considers a sushi counter the proper end to any day. At thirty she brings a settled good humour that loosens a formal table within minutes. Home is Covent Garden, a quick cab from any door in SW1.
Swatch three, honey: Nora
Nora is honey blonde and hazel eyed, athletic at 166 cm and quietly devoted to how clothes are made. Her sketchbook is crowded with dresses she means to cut one day, she can tell one grower champagne from another by its village, and once a week she is at the flower market across the river long before sunrise. She lives in Paddington, on the far side of Hyde Park.
Swatch four, caramel: Thea
Thea wears the darkest blonde in the set, a long and loose caramel, with green eyes and a curvy build at 165 cm. She cycles almost everywhere, spends her free days walking hills and holds firm opinions on Japanese cooking, which is why a counter seat on Walton Street is her notion of a perfect start. She lives in South Kensington, close enough to Knightsbridge to arrive under her own steam.
How a fair shade wears after dark
Blonde hair catches candlelight beautifully and looks at home against the pale stucco this part of London is known for, which makes these plates a natural choice for dinner. Our corner table commission holds four hours for £1,300, room enough for a long menu on Elizabeth Street and an unhurried walk back past Eaton Square. Two hours at £750 suits a drink at The Berkeley and a turn around the Wellington Arch.
The same four, filed elsewhere
Cindy also hangs among the slim and slender plates, Nora with the toned and athletic, and both Nancy and Thea in the curvaceous set. Among the age sets, three of the four sit in the late twenties, and Nancy, the eldest, in thirties and beyond.
Asking for one of the four
The hour with any of these four is £400, and the remaining figures sit on the rates page. Name the one you would like in a single line through booking, adding your hotel and a time, and Rosie will tell you whether she can be with you.
Seen a face you like? Ask for her by name.
Or describe the evening and let Rosie choose. Either way you receive a written reply naming who is free, what it costs and when she can knock.