To go back right to the start, could you talk a little bit about your background and how social class was a part of your life growing up?.
So I'm from a place called Corby in the Midlands. It's a steel town, it was very deprived, and kind of ignored. They built a lot of business really quickly and then they didn't really think about community as well, so a lot of areas were kind of under-developed and stuff. When towns grow organically, it's quite slow and quite steady, but Corby was expanded so quickly because of the steelworks and stuff that I think it just became very industrialised. I don't think people, government, or big business – shock – really cared about the welfare of the people there. But it's a lot better now. It has had a lot of investment since I left. That's where I'm from but then, because of that, social class didn't knowingly affect my life growing up at all. It was honestly only when I went to university.
I was really quite shockingly naive. Obviously, I knew there were posh people and stuff like that, but I just didn't realise that these people were everywhere. My new friends had all gone travelling in the summer, and I was like: “But how did you afford it?” I probably sounded like an a****ole. I didn’t grow up poor, but I was baffled. It baffled me because I'd had Saturday jobs and then worked all summer. And I was just like: “I must be s**t with money, because I couldn't have afforded to go around Australia for six weeks.”
And then, growing up with the background you had, did you ever think that a career in comedy was something that was even possible?
No, definitely not. I only started doing comedy when I was 28, and even then I just thought: “Oh, it'll be a nice hobby.” I remember doing am-dram and stuff at school and I was quite interested in it. But I remember going to the careers officer and saying I wanted to be an artist or something. They were like “no, you can't do that” so you're gonna have to think about something else. And that's the weird thing.
Then I came up to Edinburgh to see one of my uni mates and he was from this really lovely, amazing middle class family. They were so cool and I told his mum that I wanted to be a fashion journalist, because that was it at the time, and she was like: “Oh, fabulous! Where are you going to do that?” And I was like: “Oh, that's weird. There was no pushback.” That's the difference. Even my own parents, they're really supportive and encouraging, but every time I said I wanted to do something like that they told me to have a back-up. I think my dad's only just realised that maybe I can make a living and not have a full-time job as well.
Alexandra Haddow grew up in Corby before becoming a stand-up comedian
(Credit: Rebecca Need-Menear)
Were there any working class comedians that you found particularly inspiring as you were first looking to get into the comedy world?
The people that I liked were working class comedians, and I didn't even really factor that in when I was just a comedy fan before I started. My favourite comedian is Billy Connolly and he talks about a lot of his life growing up. But I think my favourite ones just tended to be working class. So I guess they're talking about stuff that you laugh about.
I think comedy is actually really interesting, because I think its reputation is still as a very working class profession. But obviously some of the financial boundaries are so huge, especially when Edinburgh is factored in.
I kind of wanted to boycott Edinburgh this year. I didn't want to buy into the machine of it. Because essentially, you're endorsing the greed of accommodation and the greed of some venues – not all – and artists always coming out worse than everybody else involved in the process. But then I got a room at Monkey Barrel, which is a newish set of venues in Edinburgh and their split with the artist is great. It's just so much nicer. I hope it's going to have to go that way because it's gone so far the other way and become so unaffordable. It's unreal. So I didn't boycott it in the end, but things like Edinburgh are a huge barrier.
I guess that seems more acute now because the pipeline means you almost have to do Edinburgh and I think that's affecting the comedians that most of us see on TV, for example, as opposed to circuit comedians.
That's actually where it's become really interesting, I think. TV is dead. Panel shows are gone. If you see new comedians now that are gaining following quickly, it's online. That has democratised things a little bit because, actually, Edinburgh isn't needed any more, depending on what you want to do. If you've got your own fan base and you can sell tickets through social media and stuff, then you don't have to do it. But I guess if you want to pitch a TV development script or something like that, it helps to do Edinburgh. But it shouldn't have to be the one thing that you have to do.
How did your first opportunity in comedy come about? How did you first get up on stage, and get past whatever barriers you felt you had?
My friend tricked me into it. I didn't know that he booked me in. He was a stand-up and he said “why don't you write me what you would say?”, so I did that. Then he read it and he was like: “Oh, thank God, because I booked you in to do a gig tomorrow night.” So that was that. But I ticked that off and didn't really do it again. I was still too scared and nervous for a long time. Then I picked it up again when I was really bored of my job a few years later.
As your career has progressed, have you found any barriers because of your social class status?
Not that I would necessarily know of. Sometimes I feel a bit like maybe I'm not the right sort of person that people want for TV. I'm not very good at schmoozing or any of that sort of stuff and I'm quite oblivious to the whole industry side of it, really. But I just want to do a good show and be as good as I can be. But I think sometimes, perhaps, people from middle class or upper class backgrounds always know how to play the game from the get-go. I think private school teaches you about life a lot more, like how the world works. State school teaches you about life in a very different way. [Private school] teaches you how to play the game quite quickly.
Do you think that the situation involving class in comedy has changed since you've been in the industry?
I think it is becoming more diverse because I think it has to be, especially in London, where I live and gig a lot. Definitely in the cities, line-ups are always really diverse in terms of class and race, and stuff like that. So I would like to think that it is getting there. There are a lot more bursaries and things like that for working class comedians and I think people's hearts are in the right place. But I think it's human nature that, if you've got 10 commissioners that all went to public school, they're probably going to, even without realising, pick acts that mirror themselves.
Could you talk a little bit about the West End Comedy Club’s working class bursary and how that helped you?
It's a great idea. Last year, that was a huge help to me. That was 500 quid and I think I made money at Edinburgh last year. That was sub-letting my room in London for the month, renting from a friend of a friend [in Edinburgh], selling out my entire run, winning a hundred quid from a women and non-binary bursary as well, extra gigs up here which were like 600 quid, working three or four days freelance for a magazine while I was up here, and I didn't have a production company to pay. With all that, I made something like £1,300 and £500 of that was the bursary. It was a massive help, and it's such a genuinely brilliant thing to get us something in the media where it’s like: “Here's why it's important.”
Alexandra Haddow won the West End Comedy Club's inaugural working class bursary in 2023
I think it's really interesting about line-ups getting more diverse in terms of class, because I think the stereotypical image of a comedian from the working men's clubs of the 70s and 80s is of a working class person, but I feel there was then maybe a shift. As TV became more of a thing, the comedians got posher, and then maybe that balance is now being redressed again.
I think you're right. I've never even thought about that. I think people are trying to push back in the right direction, definitely, and it’s more balanced. It should be as well. Posh people are funny. You want to hear some people from all sides of the spectrum.
And what do you think needs to change, if anything, to get better working class representation in comedy?
Make things like the Edinburgh Fringe affordable. The arts is always the last thing to be considered when money is tight and people don't realise how big a portion of society it really helps, in terms of making it and enjoying it. If you had things like rent caps [in Edinburgh], if you had things like minimum payments to artists and stuff like that, it would make a massive difference to how the entire model works.
Somebody said the other day that it should be like an Olympics-type model. So it should be like: “The Fringe is in Edinburgh in 2024, but in 2025 it's going to be in Newcastle, and in 2026 it's going to be in Liverpool.” There would be an incentive for them to want to make it attractive to come here. You've got to democratise it. You've got to try to put in some kind of minimum payment for big things or stop private greed in order for comics to be able to afford it.
What advice would you then give to a working class young person who is pondering a career in comedy and wondering if they can do it?
Well, you can do it because I've done it, and loads of people have done it. But not everybody has the exact same experience. Not everybody has the exact same income. Not everybody has the exact same level of skill. The only thing I would say is you've just got to start local and you've got to start small. Don't bankrupt yourself to do anything, it's not worth it. You have to be really good with your own money, but essentially don't feel like you have to do a certain thing a certain way anymore. Because actually, you don't. Posting your stuff online is free. You've got to find a different way around it than this archaic route that everybody feels like you have to take, and you don't have to shell out all this money. Keep an open mind and don't follow the exact path that you're told you have to follow
The UK is probably one of the densest countries to do [stand-up] in terms of gigs and open spots and everything like that. It can be done. Just don't feel pressured. Don't spend money you don't have. Don't get yourself into trouble. Look out for venues like Monkey Barrel, who are actually trying to work against the norm and getting great comedians and a great reputation for it.
Find out more about Alexandra Haddow by following her on Instagram.
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