Ronda Stein

Every guest list she touches ends up with one extra name, scribbled at the bottom in paint-stained pencil, someone she met that week and liked too much to leave out. Ronda runs events for a living, and the calm she keeps while a venue falls apart behind her is the same calm she carries into a sunrise yoga session or the last hour of a party nobody wants to end. The Elspeth Warren streak in her treats her fifties as a second opening night: tribal prints, piercings and ink included. Her canvases dry half-finished on the balcony, because she would rather be out. Talking to her feels like being pulled into a room where the good conversation already started.