The Beginning

My name is Roxy; I am the official regional producer of Funny Women Amsterdam and the unofficial facilitator of the International Funny Women open mics. I am half Spanish and English and have lived in Amsterdam since 2011. I’ve always been a comedy enthusiast, but I never even considered doing comedy myself, having seen little representation of female comedians. I discovered the Underground English Comedy Scene in Amsterdam and did my first open mic in 2017 at Boom Chicago at an open mic called Funny Shop, run by Michael Jagger and Richy Sheehy. I did 3 minutes on stage, forgot half my jokes despite reading from a notebook and was hooked.

By 2018, after a year of awkwardly trying my hand at comedy, I noticed a lack of women on stage. So, I started my own open mic, —Radiongaga at Radion (don’t ask about the name; it was a very boozy night of brainstorming). I didn't know much about comedy yet and had only done a dozen open mics, but I knew I wanted at least half the lineup to be women.

Somehow, amidst a 40-hour work week, I decided to organise, promote, make the lineup, run the door, host, and take photos of comedians while they were on stage. It was tough, and I had a lot to learn. My friends helped loads during the first few shows, and I am forever grateful.

I did one show with an all-women line-up and one guy called Guy. He was the token male. That felt good. The idea of an all-female night was forming, but I wasn't sure if it would work or how to approach it.

Around that time, Gillian Graven reached out to me. She had just returned from the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, where she attended a workshop with Funny Women and met Lynne Parker, the founder of Funny Women. They talked, and Lynne mentioned she would love to have a Funny Women show in Amsterdam. Gillian thought of me, as I was one of the few female producers in the city. After a video call with Lynne and hitting it off, we started organising the first-ever Funny Women Amsterdam, set for March 19, 2019, at the Bajes in Rembrandtplein.

We booked a venue, set a date, and started promoting. Everything seemed to be falling into place—until the night of the show.

I arrived early to set up, only to find that the venue had no idea we were coming. I showed the staff the email exchange with their boss, and they just shrugged. We had to quickly set up the back for a workshop with over ten people, including Lynne, who had travelled to Amsterdam just for this. I couldn’t tell her they didn’t know we were coming!

We then started preparing the room for the show, only to be told the microphone was broken and the sound system was missing—it had been sent for repairs over the weekend. I looked at the staff member with a deadpan expression and said, “Well, a mic and sound system are pretty important for a comedy show. " He responded, “I guess you’re right.”

Desperate, I called Sharon Em from Weird Uncle Comedy, knowing she had a portable speaker with a mic she had been sharing with Daniel Hillel-Touch from Barrel of Laughs. Bless her for getting on a bakfiets (a bike with a front cargo box) and biking over to us, but her bike got a flat tyre on the way, and she had to get a taxi. My head was about to explode.

The lighting was non-existent, and the tiny portable speaker wasn’t strong enough to carry the sound around the massive venue, which was also serving dinner during the show. The clattering of cutlery and loud conversations added to the ambience.

Our audience started arriving while I was still running around like a headless chicken, trying to make sure everything was ready. Show much go on!

Somehow, despite all this, the workshop ran smoothly. The show started much later than expected, but we still had almost 60 people in the audience, and the comedians powered through and did a great job. Back then, the event was still called Time of the Month, and our first lineup was: Host Carly Greaves-Guertin, Gillian Graven, Sarah Warren, Nira Tal, Sharon Em, Tamar Robin Star, Lara Ricote, Miky, and unfortunately, some names I don’t remember (sorry!).

It was pure chaos behind the scenes, but that night was the beginning of something truly special, and I’m still honoured to continue organising Funny Women Amsterdam to this day. Looking back, I laugh at how much went wrong, but that’s just part of starting something new. You learn as you go. Now, every time we put on a Funny Women show, I remember that first night—the broken mic, the double-booked venue, the sheer panic—and how, despite everything, we made it happen.

Surprisingly, that was our first and last show at De Bajes.