Wendy Wason: Things I Didn't Know I Didn't Know

When a stand-up comic has uttered the words “I’m a single mother of two” within the first five minutes of her set, you have a fair notion it’s going to be a tough night. Any fears of an emotionally frought hour of introspection are dispelled, however, by the source of the claim: Wendy Wason doesn’t look like she’s had a parking ticket, let alone two kids.

It’s difficult to say what makes Wason so likeable; a cynic would say her looks, but this lady – in the old-fashioned sense – has charm and class to spare. She wins over the audience almost before coming on stage, issuing them with fans bearing her image to waft away the heat of the Gilded Balloon’s sultry Turret.

Strutting on stage in an evening gown and heels, she makes an immediate impression. Appearance counts for something, no matter what art you practice; it’s a mark of total respect for her audience and craft that she would look at home on the red carpet.

This is no catwalk show: Wason wins over any remaining doubters with an air of complicity and honesty that owes as much to her demeanour as it does her deeply personal material. Not everything hits the mark, but you can tell her audience is under the Wason spell when her filthy one-liners—deliberately out of place—clatter to the floor: a moment of shocked silence builds into a chorus of laughter. Wendy Wason and her comedy are both utterly fanciable.