
Three tutors, eight wheels, a six-week course and a taster night that always sells out — and a phone nobody can answer with clay on their hands. Stella answers every call, enrols into courses and tasters with live places, runs the waitlist, books private sessions, and sees kiln days and half-terms coming.
Kiln & Co., this is Stella — how can I help you?
You don't need another studio app. You need someone who picks up, knows every wheel's count, and keeps the course calendar honest.
Stella knows the live places, offers what has room, and enrols — or waitlists — on the spot.
The universal six, and two that matter when your book is courses, tasters and a kiln.
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.
Courses and tasters are published with places per studio; she enrols by voice or text into the live count and, when full, runs the waitlist — the first person gets the text the moment a place opens.
A six-week course is a standing arrangement; kiln days, closures and a tutor away are flagged when it's booked and settled then — a make-up week, or a different tutor if the students agree.
She takes the cancellation the moment it comes, whatever the hour — nobody waits for the desk to open. Runway is money: the earlier she knows, the more people she can offer the slot to once your outbound hours open, and the likelier it fills. Your policy — notice period, deposit, fee — is yours; she states it plainly, applies it the same way every time, and stays kind about it.
Everyone on the short-notice list asked to be on it. Nobody is nagged; nobody hears another client's business.
Rain, a burst pipe, a birth, the autoclave, the hall double-booked — the whole block moves, and it's your call, not the client's. You say it once; she works out who's affected, offers each person the right alternative in their own words, waives the fee, logs the reason, and reports back. When it's an overrun rather than a closure she works by who can still act: the people who haven't left home yet get the call and the choice; the people already in the room get the honest ETA and a coffee; nobody further out is touched until the delay is still growing. Nobody hears why; nobody rings the desk.
The kiln's dead till Friday — no glazing this week. Tell Wednesday's course it's throwing instead, and add a firing week.
A course or taster is a published shell with N places in a studio with a tutor; a private session is search-then-create into a tutor's hours. Same ledger, one honest answer.
You can't answer a phone with clay on your hands. Somebody has to.
A panel by the studio door: which session is next, who's new, who's on the list. One button to say “move Thursday's course to Studio 2.” Clay suppliers and scam calls never reach the wheels.
Between sessions, a glance and you know. Nothing to tap.
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.
Your courses and tasters with places per studio, your tutors and hours, your kiln days and closures. She's configured by hand for the first studios — a few at a time.
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.