Tiffany, AmsterdamCentrum escort withan eye for detail

Amsterdam Centrum after midnight is a city of details. Lit gables along the Herengracht. Bicycles doubled in the black water of the Keizersgracht. Brass door handles polished on the grand canal hotels. Tiffany collects all of it, camera in one hand, a glass of champagne never far from the other. This is her neighbourhood, and she knows it by its light: which bridge glows gold at one, which alley catches a neon reflection after rain. She is twenty-four, 169 cm, petite in frame, with long chocolate brown hair, brown eyes. Graceful in the way she moves through a crowded bar. Playful in the way she drops a joke at exactly the wrong moment. Detail-oriented in the way she remembers what you ordered, what you said and how you said it.

Street photography is her eye on the city. Night scenes, strangers under streetlights, a doorman lighting a cigarette in a hotel doorway. She sees a photograph in almost everything. Stacy works the same beat over in De Pijp. Champagne is her celebration drink, with or without a reason to celebrate, and she prefers it very cold in a proper glass. Design hotels are her guilty pleasure. She will tell you which lobby has the best lighting, which one tried far too hard, and where the most beautiful bar stools in the city are hiding. She points all of this out in English, quietly, so only you hear it.

Her style is beachside boho glam with sequin sparkle. Paillettes, beige and blush, a wrap that catches every light in the room. On a winter night in the old centre it looks like a holiday that refused to end. Nothing gets past her, and that includes the good things about you. Leave the choice of bar to her; it will be the most beautiful one within walking distance. Book Tiffany for a polished evening among the canals, from €180 per hour.

Blue hour on the Keizersgracht, and Tiffany has already found the bridge where the lamps switch on first. She photographs the gables shifting from grey to gold, then trades the camera for a very cold glass of champagne at a design-led hotel bar in the old centre, chosen for its lighting. She has notes. The chairs are perfect, the ceiling is trying too hard. Dinner is a sleek room with an open kitchen and plates like small sculptures, and she photographs exactly one of them. The second half is a slow walk through the Nine Streets, windows dark, reflections sharp, a new frame every twenty metres, each one held up for you to judge. The last glass comes somewhere with the best view of the water she knows.