Think of Mayfair Babes as a society magazine that happens to run a high class escort agency in London: bold on the cover, meticulous in the small print. Every introduction we make is to an adult companion, for her time and her company, and every one is arranged from our W1 desk for a hotel suite or a private home somewhere in the centre of town.
This is the page most readers skip, the masthead. It explains who reads your messages, how a woman comes to appear in the line-up and the standards we keep when nobody is looking.
Glossies and good agencies share a secret: the shine on the surface only works if the checking underneath never lets up. So the tone here is playful and the process is not. Mayfair gave us the name and the mood, from the terracotta of Mount Street to the lamplit calm of Grosvenor Square, yet the agency keeps no premises at all. The evening always takes place on your territory: a suite, a townhouse or a restaurant booked in your name.
Every message is read and answered by Bella, whether it lands over lunch or at four in the morning. She suggests companions, runs the one-time check, writes the confirmation and stays in the chat until your companion has arrived. Her house rule is candour: if the woman you asked for is not free, you hear it at once, together with a suggestion she would stand behind.
By her own choice, and on her own terms. Each companion is an independent adult of 18 or older who asked to appear here, brought her ID to a face-to-face meeting with us and is entitled to work in Britain. No agent, manager or go-between sits between her and a booking. Her diary is hers to fill, every request is hers to accept or turn down, her fee comes to her straight from the guest, and her profile can be edited or pulled at her word.
Each portrait in The Women is glamour and lifestyle photography of the woman herself, faces softened for her privacy and never any nudity, compared with her in person before it is published; the photo policy has the detail.
Guest notes, where a profile carries them, meet the same standard. Each comes from a real, completed booking, shows a first name and a month, is read by Bella before it appears and is never invented, paid for or polished into praise. A genuine four star verdict keeps its place next to the raves, and a companion can have any note about her removed simply by asking.
Bella is on duty around the clock, Christmas morning included. Every booking is outcall, to hotels, serviced flats and private homes across central London; her journey is free of charge across Zones 1 and 2, and each rung of the ladder appears on the rates page.
We are not a directory, and nothing here is explicit. Every fee pays for time and companionship; nothing further is offered, priced or implied anywhere on the site, and that restraint is exactly what lets the rest of the magazine have its fun.
Good manners are the dress code for everybody involved. Your companion can close an evening the moment it stops feeling safe or respectful, and guests can count on punctuality and discretion from her in return. This magazine has zero tolerance for coercion or exploitation. If something you notice, here or anywhere else, suggests a person is being trafficked or controlled, the Modern Slavery Helpline accepts reports confidentially at any hour.
Choose from the line-up or ask Bella for a recommendation. The woman at your door is the woman in the pictures.