Vinyl first, dinner afterwards, and she will not be moved on the order of those two things. Rosa is 160 cm and curvy, with chestnut brown hair that curls properly rather than obediently, and brown eyes that crinkle whenever something amuses her, which happens a great deal. Twenty five. She dresses comfortably and well: a knitted dress, a denim jacket that has been repaired at least twice, gold hoops, and boots chosen because she intends to be on her feet for a while.
Earthy is the word people land on, and easygoing is what makes an afternoon with her run long. Nothing has to be impressive. She is perfectly content in a record shop basement for an hour and equally content at a table with white cloths, and she brings the same unhurried good humour to either. Her English is fluent and warm. Baking is the Sunday habit, galleries are the weekday one, and records are the thing she spends far too much money on without any intention of stopping.
Her afternoon in this corner of town starts on Denmark Street, the short run of guitar shops and record dealers behind Tottenham Court Road that somehow survived everything built around it. She flicks through the racks properly, talks to whoever is behind the counter, and will buy something she cannot play until she gets home. Dinner follows nearby once the shops shut, and by then she has usually worked out exactly where it should be.
Marylebone is home, two stops west of Tottenham Court Road. She works Sunday to Thursday only, so tell booking which of those days suits and the afternoon can start whenever you like.
Her home stage is Marylebone, and she travels from there to the venues this house covers. Her full listing sits with the rest of the company on the companions page.