Why did you get into comedy?
I started standup as a teenager despite being painfully shy. I loved the feeling of making people laugh, but the thought of it being a job had never crossed my mind. A career started to snowball without me even realising and I’ve been delighted and astounded by that ever since. I’ve grown up in this job, and 18-year-old me would never have believed it possible.
Who did you admire when you were starting out?
Rob Rouse. To this day, if I see I’m on a lineup with him I’m buzzing. I’ve also been in awe of Ross Noble’s ludicrous genius since before I even started comedy.
Any bugbears from the world of comedy?
Promoters who don’t pay on time. People who act like if you’re not based in London then you don’t matter. People who won’t acknowledge that class is a huge hurdle in the arts. When you find out your train home is actually a rail replacement bus. Three-and-a-half-star reviews – go on, round it up to four. I dare you.
What inspired your new show, Big Girl Pants?
As some audiences have watched me grow up, I felt I had to recognise the milestone of turning 30. If my last show was about making the best of what you have, this one is about making the best of what is still to come. I wanted to write a show that acknowledges I am too anxious and worry too much, but want more than anything to change that.
Do you have any preshow rituals?
Try not to have an existential crisis. Check my fly isn’t down and that there’s nothing in my teeth.
Can you recall a gig so bad, it’s now funny?
When I was first starting to get paid weekend spots, there was a particularly heinous crowd where I watched the other much more experienced comedians bomb so I accepted my fate. The whole thing felt like a fever dream. I remember checking my watch thinking I might be nearly done and I was only six minutes into a 15-minute set. I tried to leave without being paid then bought a pack of continental deli meat on the way back and ate the whole thing with shame.
What have you learned from standup?
To try to find the funny side of any situation. Life feels so much easier to navigate if you can do it while having a laugh. I also know the British rail network like the back of my hand, have learned how to get changed in a green room full of other comics without exposing yourself, and have an excellent knowledge of how to navigate on foot between most train stations, Travelodges and the nearest Nando’s.
Who is your comedy hero?
Russell Howard. I used to religiously watch Good News every week. He was the first standup I saw live, when I was 15, and I went to see him year after year. I remember I took a selfie with his poster after that first gig because I wasn’t able to stay back and meet him. Fast forward 12 years and we got to work together. I told him the story and asked if I could finally get my picture with him and of course he agreed to recreate the one I took with his poster. He was also lovely to my mam, so that’s a big thumbs up.
What are you most excited for?
To not be at the Edinburgh fringe in August. I’ve only not been four times in the last 11 years, and two of those were during the Covid years so I could hardly make the most of it. It will be strange not waking up in a panic and checking a ticket sales report, but I am sure I will adjust nicely.
You’re in a cab, the driver finds out you’re a comedian and asks you for a joke. What do you say?
Even this hypothetical situation has me breaking out in anxiety sweats. I never tell taxi drivers what I do, and instead use it as an opportunity to explore what alternate versions of Lauren would be doing. Some days I am a teacher, others I am a nail technician. I fear the day will come when I get the same driver twice, and I’ll be mid elaborate backstory when he tells me: “I thought you worked in a supermarket?”
• Lauren Pattison: Big Girl Pants is on tour until 10 June
