Tall, bold and spontaneous, with a camera in one pocket and a punchline in the other.
Every photo compared with Stacy in person · listing updated September 2026 · Photo policy
Stacy crosses a room at 176 cm, slim and striking, her long hair a brown so dark it reads as black, her eyes brown and missing nothing. She dresses in edgy metallic nightlife glam: a silver slip dress under an oversized leather jacket, chunky boots or sharp heels, a thin chain at the neck. Early twenties, bold and wholly unbothered by attention, she can make a conservative hotel bar look like the best room in town simply by walking into it.
Spontaneous is her operating mode. Stacy loves a last minute plan and a change of direction halfway through an evening. Street photography trains her to notice people, snowboarding gives her a taste for speed, and stand-up comedy keeps her quick, so her conversation is sharp, funny and occasionally outrageous in the most harmless way. She speaks English with a confident, teasing energy, and she is excellent company for anyone who is tired of polite small talk.
Her W2 evening wanders north to Golborne Road, a lively market street at the top end of Portobello Road, overlooked by Trellick Tower, the brutalist block that photographers never tire of. Stacy will frame the tower against the evening sky on her phone, then lead you back down Portobello Road for a drink wherever the music sounds best. It is a fifteen minute cab from Paddington, and she likes to return by a different route, just to see what else the night has to offer.
Short notice is welcome with Stacy most nights, and she meets guests anywhere in W2 and beyond. Message the desk your hotel, and she can often be on her way within the hour.
Stacy welcomes same night bookings and short notice, and late finishes do not bother her. From Chelsea she is usually at a Paddington hotel within half an hour.
Every line is quoted in whole pounds and settled with her in cash on arrival. Travel, airport minimums and cancelling are set out on the rates page.
Stacy is based around Chelsea and comes out to W2 hotels and homes like everyone on the board. No travel charge applies anywhere in Zones 1 and 2.
Stacy's evenings keep to a plan for roughly eleven minutes. She arrives at 21:00, orders something sparkling at the hotel bar, and then announces that the plan has changed.
A cab north takes fifteen minutes. On Golborne Road she photographs a neon sign, a man with a spectacular moustache after asking his permission, and the tower against a navy sky. She tells you about a snowboarding trip where she slid off a chairlift in front of an entire ski school and later turned it into a five minute comedy routine. Then back down Portobello Road for a drink wherever someone has put on a good record. She tests new jokes on you, watches your face and adjusts the timing on the spot. The ride back to W2 comes when she decides the night has been properly used, rarely before midnight.
Open mic nights, twice, both in tiny rooms above pubs. The first was a disaster, the second was a slightly smaller disaster. That counts as progress.
Someone doing something ordinary with total commitment. A man carrying a birthday cake down Portobello Road like it is a newborn baby.
Snowboard, always. Skiers look elegant. Snowboarders look like they are having far more fun falling over, and they usually are.
This log only grows when a client who actually met Stacy writes in afterwards. The desk reads every note before it appears, prints it under a first name and the month of the booking, and never drafts one itself. Empty for now is the honest state.
Checked before publishing · first name plus month · removed whenever Stacy asks
Tap WhatsApp and a message naming Stacy is ready to go. Fill in the day, the start time and where you are staying; the reply lands inside a quarter of an hour.
