
Stella is a voice-and-message assistant with a real scheduling engine underneath — for salons, studios, clinics and practices with a team, a floor of chairs or rooms, and a phone that rings while everyone's hands are busy.
Good morning, this is Stella — how can I help you?
Six chairs, four techs, one front desk that's also doing a blow-dry. A missed call is rarely one missed appointment — it's a new client who rings someone else, a regular who gives up rescheduling, a whole course of care that quietly stops.
Anyone can bolt a robot to a phone line. Stella talks like a good office manager: place, first name, how can I help — and then she listens. No menus. Ever.
Under the voice is a scheduler that knows every stylist, therapist or trainer — who is where, for how long, in which chair or room, across every location. If she offers Thursday at 2:20 with Maya, it's free.
Colour that processes while the chair is held. A class with twelve places. Hygiene recall every six months. Therapy twice a week, sensibly spaced. Same Stella, different recipe.
Care plan → rhythm → sessions. A bad week never rewrites the plan; a missed call never ends a course of care.
A first-time caller is held, not processed. Weekly clients keep their rhythm. Nobody ever hears another client's business.
Referrals come at 8:20 and 7:15pm, not in the phone hour. Weekly kids' sessions, school-day locations, and a waitlist that runs itself.
Who is at which clinic on which day — and the plain offer: “the 1st here, or Thursday at Largo.”
A cancellation becomes an offer to the four o'clock — the day tightens, you finish earlier.
Needles in, patient resting, doctor free — she starts the next patient in room 2 and never double-books either.
Jordan's away that week — keep the time with Alex covering, or wait for Jordan? The client decides.
Two kinds of capacity, four chairs, a six-month recall that actually happens — and the same-day call answered chairside.
Different lengths, different people. Sooner at the other practice? She says so, with the place.
Test ≠ fitting ≠ follow-up: different lengths, different people. Patient, unhurried on the phone — and sooner at the other branch when it helps.
Routine care is a rhythm, not a reminder card. Same podiatrist, same slot; a moved visit moves once.
Weekly, then fortnightly, then monthly — one plan, not three. A first-time caller is welcomed, not screened.
Visits at 8, 12, 16, 20 weeks and on — spacing by pregnancy week, not by calendar. Warm at 2am, and honest about what she is.
She doesn't diagnose. She books the consult, offers the nurse if it can't wait, and knows an exam room from a vet.
She books a cut into the processing wait — same stylist, another chair — and never double-books either.
She knows Marcus wants Dre, knows Dre's booked till Saturday, and knows Northside has a chair at three.
Two friends, two techs, one booking. A pedicure with a soak and a dry. Six chairs seen at once.
The difference between two facials, from your catalogue, with prices — and no promises about your skin.
A big piece is three sittings four weeks apart — a rhythm, not three bookings. Deposits explained plainly; the machine never stops for the phone.
The dry is groomer-free time she can book a nail trim into; the phone answered while both hands hold a wet spaniel.
“Saturday 9:30 has two places left” — enrolled by voice, confirmed by text, before the class fills.
“The six is full — I can add you to the waitlist, or there's a place at 7:15.” A place opens; the first in line gets the text.
Trainers' hours are per branch. New member wants an intro session sooner — she offers the branch that has it.
She books the term and flags the holiday collision at booking — “half-term falls on your Thursday: skip, or make up?”
Live places per class, a waitlist that runs itself, and the sick-child cancellation refilled from the list.
Recreational classes with live counts and a waitlist; trials, holiday camps and one-to-ones on the same book.
Family plans, gradings seen coming, trials booked by phone while the class bows in.
Private lessons into a coach's real hours and courts; junior clinics with live places; the rain-day reshuffle handled by text.
Courses and taster sessions with live places; kiln days seen coming; the phone answered while your hands are in clay.
Lessons as a rhythm counting toward a test date; instructors, cars and pick-up areas on one book; the phone answered while everyone's driving.
Newborn, family, headshot — different lengths, different set-ups. Studio held for the whole visit; the photographer's hands for the shoot.
She owns the whole appointment lifecycle for the whole team. Not a grid to click; a person to talk to, with a spreadsheet underneath she'd never get wrong.
No menus, no “press one”, no hold music, no disclaimer wall. Place, first name, how can I help — in one breath. Then she listens instead of interrogating. And she's there at 7:40 in the morning and 9 at night — when the parent thinks of it, not when you open.
She searches actual availability — who is where, doing what, for how long, in which chair or room — and never double-books. If she offers 2:20, 2:20 is free.
Reminders go out ahead of time. When someone can't make it, she handles the flustered call with warmth and finds the next time without drama.
A cancelled four o'clock is the one slot you can't sell tomorrow. The moment it frees, she offers it — by text — to the people who've said they'd take short notice, who wanted earlier, or who owe a make-up. First yes takes it; nobody else hears about it.
A four o'clock cancels? She asks the five o'clock if they'd like to come earlier. Nobody is obliged, and it cascades — you finish at five, not six.
Someone turns down a 9am; she stops leading with mornings for them. Preferences, never rules — and when she checks, she uses very few words.
A missed call is rarely one missed appointment. It's the client who rang somebody else.
You don't only buy bookings. You buy time with the client that nobody breaks — for every person on the floor. Stella's second product is the shield around your team's day.
The panel is a projection of the live schedule. The button talks to the same Stella your clients talk to — just with boss-level authority. Nothing else to learn.
No “press one”. No “your call is important to us”. No recorded disclaimers before a human word. Warm, short, present — and honest if you ask what she is.
She offers what's in your catalogue and staff profiles. She won't crown a “best” anyone or promise an outcome. A time she offers is a time that's free.
A moved client hears “we need to move your Tuesday — let me find you another time.” Never who, never why. And once moved kindly, they're not yo-yo'd back.
She doesn't lead with it and doesn't apologise for it. Ask, and she'll tell you plainly: she's the assistant. She helps; that's what people remember.
We're bringing Stella to a small number of businesses at a time and configuring her by hand — your services, your people, your locations. If she fits, we'll say so; if she doesn't yet, we'll say that too.
Stella is in early access with a small number of practices and salons. Tell us about your phone and we'll tell you plainly whether she fits — and when.