The record Tina plays most is older than she is, a live jazz album with a cracked sleeve that she found in a crate in Notting Hill and has never stopped loving. That tells you something about her taste: confident, warm, a little retro and completely her own. It also tells you she is loyal, to records and to people.
She is twenty-six and 158 cm, athletic from long walks and a stubborn gym habit, her espresso brown hair long, her brown gaze direct whenever she talks. Tina lives in Covent Garden. She sketches clothes, alters her vintage finds herself and turns up to an evening in something you could not buy anywhere else.
Easygoing is her natural state. She makes nervous guests laugh within minutes, holds her own in any conversation about music or clothes, and never takes herself too seriously. She speaks English warmly, with a habit of turning a good story into a better one, and she is the first to admit when the better version has wandered slightly from the truth.
Her Notting Hill evening begins, if the timing allows, at Rough Trade West on Talbot Road, flicking through new arrivals, followed by a gin cocktail at The Distillery on Portobello Road, where the bar staff know their botanicals. Dinner follows nearby, loud and cheerful or quiet and candlelit depending on your mood, then a taxi back to your hotel. Tina is happy either way, and says so, which is a rarer kindness than it sounds.
Tina is booked most often around Notting Hill. The rates page lists every duration, and one message books her.
