Brighton Fringe: Naked Stand-Up

Komedia, Brighton

Sunday, May 19

WHEN suffering from stage fright people are advised to imagine the audience naked. Miss Glory Pearl flips that on its head with her naked stand-up show. She “bared all” to Jamie Walker.

Hi Miss Pearl, is this your first Brighton Fringe?

No, it’s my third but I always come to the Fringe, even if I’m not performing in it because there’s so many brilliant shows to see.

What do you like so much about the Fringe?

Brighton is such a vibrant city and I always feel really welcome here.

I’ve performed a lot in Brighton over the years and it has a unique energy and optimism.

The Fringe epitomises that, bringing all sorts of talent into the city.

I also really, really love Komedia and the team there – they are a delight to work with.

The parking, not so much.

Tell me about your show?

It does what it says on the tin – Naked Stand-Up.

The show is called Naked Truth because I wanted to explore some topics I’ve avoided in the past, like mother/daughter relationships and ageing, probably because part of me thought asking an audience to deal with the nudity was enough.

But over the years of performing Naked Stand-Up, I’ve realised that people tend to feel quite safe around naked women – once they get over the initial shock – because you really have nothing to hide and you’re putting yourself out there completely.

It’s still terrifying, every single time, but it’s important work because it challenges a lot of nonsense we beat ourselves up about constantly.

What was the inspiration behind it?

Originally it was about not being able to decide what to wear.

Women are so judged by how they dress and I didn’t want people to put me in a box, so not wearing anything felt like it would liberate me.

I also wanted to talk about body image, self-acceptance and the many, many ways our culture tries to shame us and our bodies, so it felt really logical to do it naked and practise what I was preaching.

Inevitably, some people will think it’s a gimmick and titillating, but it’s actually the opposite, because at the end of the day, it’s just a body and we all have one.

What do you hope people take away from the show?

That they can be a little bit kinder to themselves and worry a little bit less.

So why is this the show to see this Fringe?

Aside from the fabulous hat I’ll be wearing?

In the age of Instagram filters and face-tune apps, body dysmorphia is sky-rocketing.

We’re supposed to look a certain way and feel bad if we don’t.

We’re encouraged to spend our time and our money trying to look a certain way and again, feel bad if we don’t manage it.

The messages we get about our bodies and our appearance are confusing and change all the time and frankly, it’s ridiculous.

I’m not 20 and I’m not a size ten – that’s something I’m supposed to feel ashamed of.

Instead, I stand on stage for an hour in the buff and tell jokes.

That’s a radical act.

Standing up to this stuff isn’t just a feminist issue, it’s a human issue.

In this show, I ask you to laugh at this nonsense and feel better about yourself.