
Lea, who notices the wallpaper first
Curtain up at the Donmar, supper after, and a sharp eye for a good armchair.
- Age
- 23
- Height
- 161 cm
- Hair
- long, wavy auburn
- Eyes
- hazel
- Build
- petite
- Languages
- English
- Based in
- Belgravia
- Visits
- Hotels and residences
Her own photos, matched to her in person before they went up. Photo Policy
On Lea
- Belgravia, SW1X
- Theatre, interiors, ceramics
- Petite, 161 cm
- Hazel eyes, auburn hair in long waves
Based in Belgravia, and happy to travel to any hotel in town.
Lea notices rooms. The colour of the walls in a hotel corridor, the fabric on a headboard, the one armchair in a suite that is actually comfortable: she clocks all of it on the way in and usually says something charming about at least one. Interior design is how she spends her spare hours, and she can tell a real antique from a clever copy at ten paces.
Her hair is long, wavy and auburn, her eyes hazel, her frame petite at 161 cm, and she dresses in soft romantic colours that pick out the red in her hair: a wrap dress, a thin gold chain, a cardigan over the shoulders when the evening cools. Sweet natured and spontaneous, she is twenty three and happiest when a plan changes for the better halfway through. She speaks English with a warmth that pulls strangers at the bar into the conversation, and she laughs at her own jokes before she reaches the end of them.
Theatre is the evening she loves most. A small, serious production at the Donmar Warehouse in Covent Garden, about two hundred and fifty seats and nowhere for the actors to hide, then supper nearby and a taxi back to Belgravia. If you are staying at The Goring she will want to see the garden before dinner, whatever the season. On Saturday mornings she throws pots at a ceramics studio and will happily show you photographs of the lopsided ones.
Home is Belgravia, a stucco terrace near Victoria. Midweek evenings are easiest to place; for a weekend show, ask Henrietta early in the week.
Lea, after hours
Curtain up is at half past seven, so Lea meets you at six in the lobby, already knowing the play and deliberately not telling you the ending. The Donmar is small enough that the actors can see you, and she loves that; she watches their hands more than their faces. At the interval she has one question about the set and one about you. Afterwards, supper somewhere close with candles on the tables, while she wonders aloud what the director meant by the final scene. The cab back to your hotel is slow on a theatre night, and she does not mind at all. In the room she straightens a picture frame that has been crooked all week, then laughs at herself for doing it.
Lea, answering
3 things guests tend to ask before booking, answered in Lea's own words.
Better if you have not. I would rather hear what you thought of it fresh, before anyone has told you what to think.
The lighting, always. One lamp by the chair and the overhead light off. It takes thirty seconds and the room feels twice as expensive.
Yes, with a little notice. Saturday tickets go quickly, so tell Henrietta early in the week and I will look for two seats together.
Hours and rates
A theatre night with Lea calls for her four hour booking, £900, plus a few days to find tickets. Midweek visits to Belgravia and Victoria hotels are usually the easiest to place.
Whichever length you pick, you settle the figure with Lea face to face once she is with you. Her taxi to a Zone 1 or Zone 2 address is already priced in.
Platforms near her base- VictoriaCircle, District, Victoria, National Rail5min
- Sloane SquareCircle, District6min
- Hyde Park CornerPiccadilly7min
Notes on Lea
No notes on file for Lea yet, and the desk will never invent one. Guests add a note only once a booking has actually taken place; it shows nothing but their first name and when it was written, and Henrietta reads every one before it is posted.
Should Lea want a note about her withdrawn, it comes down the same day.
Also on the rota
Book Lea
The message opens with Lea already named. Add the date, the length and your hotel, and the desk sends back the minute she will knock.






