We talked to Jessie Nixon about making her Edinburgh Fringe debut with Don’t Make Me Regret This.
I’m going to enjoy this Fringe out of spite
Jessie, let’s start with your childhood, which I understand was less than straightforward, even though you ultimately succeeded academically.
I was the ultimate latchkey kid. An accidental only child in a single-parent household in Bristol. It was certainly nomadic, as we moved house and school extremely frequently, for reasons that escape me now.
At some point, it became necessary to be homeschooled. My mum was a qualified teacher, so this wasn’t a problem academically, but it was exceptionally lonely – especially as we were living in my aunt’s (definitely haunted) house in the countryside.
I like to think I’ve completed the class system, as I’ve had almost every type of schooling. In every school they said the same: you’re atrocious at maths, but good enough at English and creative stuff that we’ll take you. I distinctly remember one of my teachers telling me I should be a standup. So thank you to him!
Apart from your comedy, you have another full-time job, which I’d like to hear about – how you came by it and what it involves.
Ahaha. So – you won’t meet anyone who hates nepotism more than me. However, I am literally a nepo baby. My mum is a civil servant and so (until very, very recently) was I. Although it’s not quite as bad as it sounds, as the application process is stringently anonymised. I worked for the Department for Business and Trade. So much transferable knowledge when it comes to negotiations and diplomacy vs comedy. Both are about establishing status, articulating complex ideas and reading the room. In another world I would have made a world-class negotiator, I fear.
But you’ve also had a slew of jobs – and acquired a criminal record.
I’ve had many unglamorous jobs: chocolatier, bra-fitter, call centre, recruiter and teacher. Every person should have to work a year in retail in their twenties – you can really tell when people haven’t had to! Oh, and yes, bra-fitter was my favourite, and did spawn my penchant for MILFs, thank you for asking.
Over the pandemic I really struggled to get a job, and it transpired that this was due to having a criminal record (for fare evasion, boringly) that I didn’t know about, as I’d never been notified of any fines or court dates. I had it for two years and only found out when I got a DBS. Always carry your railcard, kids! I actually fought them and eventually settled out of court. Shout out to Section 5(3a) of the Regulation of Railways Act 1889.
Your Fringe debut show Don’t Make Me Regret This delves into your guilt around ambition, your relationship with self-discipline, your rage against nepotism in the industry and dealing with a class-ridden society. So let’s hear about those.
Yeah, it started out (as many shows do) as an amalgamation of my funniest material, but it became increasingly apparent that it was broadly about wanting to be noticed, beloved, and wanting a fair chance.
I really struggle with classism and nepotism. I think because I started in Bristol, where it wasn’t an issue, and then moved to London – and whenever I would think “this person is blowing up but doesn’t really have funny bones”, the answer would be the same every time. Ah. They have a famous parent, or a parent who’s an industry giant, or they’re just landed gentry. It’s hard to not feel like you’re just being bitter about it – people say “that’s life, life’s unfair!” – but there is something so insidious about how covert and yet obvious it is.
You also tackle being body positive, feminism and how that reconciles with wanting everyone to fancy you.
I try! I didn’t want this to be just a fat liberation show, even though I think body positivity and showcasing diverse bodies is so important right now, as culturally we grow more conservative again. Ironically, I have lost 20kg in the last year (half stress and half having better discipline). I’m absolutely frothing at the mouth to start catching Ozempic allegations, but there is a contradiction there, as the message of the show is trying to be empowering and accepting. I don’t want people to think I’ve abandoned my body-positive sentiments, but at the same time I love having massive biceps and succulent quads, and I do want everyone to fancy me! Sorry!!!!!
And on two occasions you’ve gone viral.
Yes, and I wish it was more, because I love the dopamine hit of seeing that little notifications bubble. One was for impressions (I’m a decent mimic) and one was a satirisation of how the media reports on this country's prolific violence against women. It’s shocking that there is so much complicity in the exonerative language reserved for male aggressors. It was picked up by a great charity called This Ends Now, who work against this kind of harmful reporting. Check them out!
But you hope the future will be full-time gigging.
So far it is! I can’t believe how much time I have and how not-tired my brain is! I want to gig far and wide, go abroad, do more telly, write on everything and meet everyone. I’m going to enjoy this Fringe out of spite, because I’ve worked for so long to get myself this opportunity, and I will be rinsing it for all it’s worth.
What would you like the audience to take away from your show?
I want them tired from belly laughing. I know I’ve enjoyed a show when my cheeks hurt – so basically I want them a little the worse for wear physically, but mentally I want them to feel empowered, and I want them to want to be my friend! For me, the desire to go for a pint with the comic after the show indicates that it’s been a good show. Also I’ve got no money, so if they want to literally buy me a pint, that would be good.
