Last summer I stumbled across a clip of Lou Conran on Facebook. She stopped me in my tracks. She was talking about her daughter whom she lost and how she was going to perform a comedy show at the Edinburgh Fringe. The premise seemed odd to me but even in the darkest times you can see the ludicrous fragility of life. In that short clip I could see that this was something she was putting her heart and soul into and so I decided to go to see her show: I Love Lou C.
I booked tickets and went along with my sister-in-law. On arrival we had a pre-emptive gin; purely medicinal obviously. Despite my nerves (I wasn’t even the one performing and I was shaking!) we sat on the front row. I made sure I was wearing waterproof mascara. It was a good job I did.
As to be expected there were tears: tears of frustration; sadness; empathy; and even tears of side splitting laughter. Lou has such a wonderful way of bringing characters to life: Morousy; Jane on the in breath – they don’t make sense unless you’ve seen her show but trust me; her impressions are totes hilar. It was a relief to be able to laugh at the seriously shit situation she and I had found ourselves in through a cruel twist of fate.
After the show I held back and donated to her fundraising bucket for the charity Saying Goodbye and got a photo with her and told her about Alexandra. She gave me a big hug. I really wanted to adopt her as a big sister or something.
As I had enjoyed her show so much last year I booked to see her show again; this time dragging along my mother-in-law. I’d forgotten how deliciously rude she is oooopppsss. Finding the venue was the first challenge and when we did it was aptly described as the Caves. It was also the hottest place known to man. We literally stumbled on Lou in the bar reading her notes and preparing for the show. As a side note she had the best saggy tits jumper I’ve ever seen tied around her waist!
It was one of those classic Claire moments where mouth worked before brain and I basically loomed into view next to her and asked how her nerves were; she looked at me trying to place me and fortunately brain then kicked into gear and I explained I had seen her last year and had to come again. I of course massaged her ego by explaining that her show was the only show that was booked before arrival in Edinburgh. Everything had to fit around her new show: At Least I’m not Dog Poo Darren.
This year’s theme was around picking yourself up and remembering that there is probably someone worse off than you. She didn’t want to be known as the baby loss lady and she didn’t want to hear about other people’s babies (I made a mental note not to pounce on her again at the end of the show and blither on about Alexandra) It wasn’t that she didn’t care about other babies – she cared too much. I get that.
Her show was based around a bloke called Darren who collected dog poo in Sheffield. Lou does a bloody good Sheffield accent! She actually gets to find Darren and meet him and realise that finding the goods things life are far more valuable than the anger. So the mantra of the show was #bemoreDarren. Well; Lou might want to be more Darren but sometimes I’d like to be a bit more Lou….and perhaps have the gumption to wear a saggy tits jumper…….
So I’ll say again: I Love Lou C