Solo performers on Edinburgh’s fringe are jointly confronting one of the most personally undermining ailments – body dysmorphia. Next weekend a range of female comedians – from self-confessed users of weight-loss drugs, to obsessive dieters and serial cosmetic surgery customers – will be fighting back against the damage caused by the pressure to look thin. In a string of shows they will turn the mirror first on themselves and then on wider society.
“Like many people, I thought life would start when I got to the right weight. Then you lose weight and think, how come I still don’t feel right?” said Michelle Shaughnessy, 40, an acclaimed Canadian comic who has written an unflinching new show, Too Late, Baby, revealing her reliance on semaglutide, the controversial weight-loss drug. “I never wanted to talk about it at my age. I thought, people are going to think it is a younger woman’s issue, and that I should have bigger things on my mind. But I still can’t get a handle on this.”
Admitting to funny and ridiculous insecurities, Shaughnessy will then lay much of the blame at the door of commercial advertising. She is joined at the festival by a female comic who once saw her own body as dangerous to others and another who has recently been diagnosed with body dysmorphia.
“I just assumed it was how everyone felt,” said Hannah Platt, 31. “I always felt my looks did not suit who I was. I would feel my appearance was almost offensive to other people, even an insult. Then I was diagnosed with body dysmorphia. So in my debut Edinburgh show, Defence Mechanism, I really enjoy taking down my usual guards while making the audience laugh about it.”
The battle with body image can start early. Platt, who grew up in Liverpool, remembers being told she was ugly by boys in her class and absorbing the message. “When I look now at what I watched on television as a child, shows like America’s Next Top Model, where they would criticise these beautiful women, I can see the 90s was a bad time to grow up.”
“I was bullied at school,” admits Shaughnessy, who has earned plaudits for her comic prowess but failed to learn to appreciate herself. “It was still acceptable to laugh at people for being fat then. But when I looked back at pictures of myself for this show I wasn’t nearly as big as I remembered. In my mind, I was huge.”
The result was a succession of cosmetic interventions in adulthood, from Botox and liposuction, to surgeries: “I’ve yo-yo dieted my whole life and I got sick of it. You reach your goal and then just go back to normal eating. So I jumped on to Ozempic right away. It was the first time I wasn’t obsessed with food. A year ago I would have been unapologetic about it, although if I had been honest about my size I might not have been given it. At first you lose weight gradually and feel great, but when I reached my goal weight I thought perhaps I could go smaller.”
Platt and Shaughnessy will perform on the fringe at the Pleasance Courtyard and the Underbelly Bristo Square, respectively, alongside Olivia Levine from Brooklyn in New York, who suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder. Her show Unstuck, on at the Just The Tonic’s The Mash House, confronts the physical self-loathing Levine felt in adolescence, when she viewed her body as contaminated and potentially harmful to others.
Another production from Brooklyn, the theatre show 3Hams, at the same venue, tackles similar issues. It tells of two friends who bond over their struggle with eating disorders and work together to break the unhealthy dynamic.
If these mental health problems are seeded by cruel comments heard in childhood, working later in the entertainment industry does not help. Platt enjoys dressing up, both in real life and on stage, but her pleasure in clothes has been criticised. “Some blokes in comedy have suggested I shouldn’t dress this way when I talk about depression. They say I will not be believed. But while I can never accept compliments about my looks, my clothes are something I have control over and they say who I am.”
Platt argues that male comedians are not judged the same way. “You are allowed to be an ugly, smart and funny guy. They can even be disgusting,” she said. “There is a reluctance in my audience sometimes when I talk about feeling unattractive. They don’t want to accept it, because it seems so difficult for me, as a woman.”
The condition is now manageable for Platt, while Shaughnessy said she plans to cope during the festival by keeping a store of healthy food at hand. “When I eat processed foods it does make me depressed,” she said. “I have a control issue, but it is one that seems to be relatable for people of all ages. So I just thought I am going to make an honest show about it all.”
