A Look Back at Funny Women Amsterdam, 2025

As the December air starts to nip at our noses, and the world is screaming about what they achieved this year, I’m listening to the echo of laughs from a lovely, slightly chaotic room in Amsterdam – the sound we built.

This is where FWA lives. It’s not a monthly gig; it’s a commitment made years ago, a promise whispered across a sticky stage floor: We are a creative collective for all women, and we will run this night for as long as we have to.

The mainstream of comedy can sometimes feel like a battlefield. It’s loud, unkind and demands you fight to prove you deserve to be there. We decided we didn’t need to fight for our space; we needed to create space. When we moved to Volta, everything shifted. They gave us a permanent, proper home, it gives us the stability we needed to grow.

We created a safe island where you don’t have to spend your precious 5 minutes explaining why you’re here. You can skip the apology. You can skip the defensive chatter. You can, finally, get on with the joke.

Think of those five minutes. The sacred first set. A tiny, brave offering. It’s the first time someone steps on that stage, shaking, clutching a notebook full of ideas. And then, that beautiful collective sound starts. The laughter. It wraps around you like a warm blanket, a reassurance that the story, the specific, weird, brilliant truth is shared. Providing someone with those first five minutes is a truly welcoming environment, where they feel completely safe, is the most important thing we do.

And then, there was International Women’s Day, March 8th. I looked at that line-up, and the sheer volume took my breath away. Twenty performers, twenty different women, ready to share their creativity. That night was everything we had worked for since the first show, in 2019, in a now closed bar that didn’t even know we were coming. Well, they see us now. That room, packed with so many people, felt like the absolute proof of concept.

This year, we also made a point of introducing games and new formats, as we’re building a community. We saw incredible, messy, spontaneous brilliance when the pressure was off. That creative freedom is vital.

This year, many people made that brave, tiny offering of their time, vulnerability, and humour on our stage. They filled our nights with laughter, noise and feeling. They are proof that this collective isn’t an idea; it’s a living, breathing community.

I want to say their names. These are the beautiful people that lit up our rooms in 2025:

Emma, Rachel, Elena, Katie, Sangbreeta, Rebecca, Laisvyda, Anjuli, Daria, Marijn, Tanvi, Nadine, Rashi, Mazi, Lydia, Helena, Sravasti, Kalpita, Francesca, Ana, Charlotte, Zoe, Elisabeth, Maeva, Kristina, Archana, Emily, Johanna, Arianna, Maroescha, Winnie, Angela, Rosalind, Gen, Dimple, Sabrina, Cené, Brittney, Minem, Violeta, Irina, Pit, Desta, Elles, Anastasia, Alex, Soula, Eniko, Giselle, Marina, Anam, Trista, Izzy, Lisa, Noli, Elissa, Darya, Caroline, Sadaf, Niharika, Eleonora, Alice, Lara, Simran, Ieda, Maria, Bianca, and Morgan.

Thank you for being part of the sound this year. Thank you for making this community real. Keep the fire close, and we’ll meet again next month, where we’ll light up the stage once more.

See you soon,

Roxy - Funny Women Amsterdam Producer

(P.S. If you want to help keep the fire lit, you know the drill. Come to a gig, follow us on socials, or tell a brilliant woman, trans, or non-binary person to stop apologising and sign up for the mic. We need your noise.)