The first time you see me, where will it be? A low-lit wine bar behind an unmarked door, perhaps. Or a terrace in the last of the golden hour, with a martini waiting on your side of the table and a faint trace of perfume in the air before I’ve even sat down.
A man like you doesn’t linger over the ordinary. You know precisely what draws your attention, and what holds it. Perhaps you felt it the moment you found me. Some things can’t be explained, only felt: a chemistry that exists outside of any arrangement, something unrehearsed that gets under the skin before the mind has a chance to object.
I’m Evie. People who know me call me warm, magnetic and disarmingly authentic. I’d call myself a romantic with hedonist leanings, a woman who lives in the details and knows exactly how to make a moment unforgettable. I chase the experiences that tilt the ordinary world slightly off its axis, the ones that quicken your pulse and quiet everything else. A relaxed thrill-seeker, you could say.
I’m an optimist at heart and see the world in neither black nor white, endlessly energised by learning, listening and experiencing. Why live one life when you can live several abundant ones in a single lifetime? You’ll notice the smile first, then the ease. Within minutes the day you’ve had will feel very far away, and you’ll realise you’ve stopped checking the time. That’s rather the idea.
I grew up in Australian wine country, surrounded by vineyards, long harvest lunches and people who took their glass seriously and themselves rather less so. It gave me a lifelong belief that the best things are worth lingering over. Pour me something interesting and I’ll want to know its story. Pour me something extraordinary and I’ll simply enjoy it with you.
My world has always been a creative one. A background in film and the arts taught me to notice what most people miss: the way light falls across a table, the frame within a frame, the moment just before something happens. Photography and photojournalism are my quiet obsessions. I can lose an afternoon in a gallery, standing before a single image that tells an entire story. One day I’d love to travel the world simply to explore, collect and curate the work that moves me. Add a dual bachelor’s and a master’s degree to the mix, and I’m just as happy debating ideas as I am cinematography.
I’m at my happiest in a tiny cinema watching something you’ve never heard of: art house, a forgotten classic, or a documentary that changes the way I see the world. I’m drawn to the niche, the overlooked and the beautifully unconventional. So tell me your most obscure recommendation. I promise to have one better.
My music is just as eclectic: jazz for candlelight, ambient house for creative immersion, and an appetite for all genres for when the evening calls for a little daring.
I stay balanced with yoga, pilates and early-morning runs. Come winter, though, you’ll find me on a mountain. I’m an avid snowboarder, and nothing compares to first tracks through fresh powder, which is exactly why Hokkaido sits at the top of my list. Après-ski, naturally, is my other speciality.
I divide my time between Paris and London, with escapes to wherever the light, the snow or the wine list is best. Tokyo has my heart, the Ionian Islands have my summers, and calla lilies will always have my attention.
You’ve built a life most people admire: ambition, achievement, momentum. With me, you can set all of it down. I’ll ask about the things nobody asks about: the book that changed your mind, the film you can’t stop thinking about, the version of you that existed before the calendar took over. I’ll challenge you just enough, spoil you a little more, and have you laughing at something you’d never admit to finding funny.
I’m at my best with time to savour: conversation that outlasts the wine, my hand resting on yours, a beautiful place where the outside world politely disappears. Extended dates and travel are my favourites, and they take priority in my diary. A weekend in the mountains, perhaps? I’ll race you to the bottom.
Fair warning: one evening is rarely enough.
So tell me, where will we have our first glass?