Ten years in, Joanie Little still hasn’t hung up her apron — and thank god. Confessions of a Redheaded Coffeeshop Girl has gone from a scrappy barista comedy to a cult Fringe staple, serving sass, anthropology, and oat milk foam in equal measure.
What started as one woman trying to laugh her way through an existential crisis is now a global tour de force, brewed in 38 cities and steeped in sharp comedy, big heart, and just enough chaos to keep you buzzing.
We sat down with creator and performer Rebecca Perry to talk latte art disasters, beer-wielding audiences, and why the grind might just be the vibe after all.
I think we can learn from Gen Z as they seem to breeze through capitalism like it’s not there.
Ten years on, Joanie Little’s still serving sass and espresso- what’s aged better: her coffee foam art or her existential crisis?
This is my favourite question so far this Fringe! Honestly, I think her sass and verve for life. Every 20-something has something to prove and wants to make their mark in the world. Even if it’s just through sheer will and determination because of said existential crisis, it is something that Gen Z can relate to, especially in the age of very undefined careers when they’re embracing gig culture wholeheartedly. But hey, my latte art is still pretty good too.
You’ve played more than 20 characters in one hour – to be honest, do you ever lose track mid-show and accidentally become a French penguin?
To be honest, because the show is based on real interactions and stories, the order of events is very much solidified in my mind for all of time. That said, I love the idea of me turning into the wrong animal accidentally because that could be quite comedic, wouldn’t it?
If Jane Goodall had walked into your original run in 2015, what do you think she would’ve ordered – and what character would she inspire?
Knowing Jane, she’s very no fuss, so I think she’d ask for my finest coffee but the origins must be Tanzanian. I’d endeavour to make one heck of a cup of coffee. As you’ll see in the show, she inspires quite a few characters, but I think she would be one of the famous chimpanzees that have similar personality traits to her. One that comes to mind is Patty – if you read up on her characteristics, you’ll see that Jane has quite a fondness for her and sees herself in her a bit.
Let’s talk jazz hands and burnt beans: what’s harder- nailing a punchline or getting a decent oat milk froth?
What’s kind of funny is I’m really good at reading body language and interacting with people. I think one of my problems as a barista was that I was too busy telling jokes and trying to get a smile or make someone laugh, where my oat milk froth wasn’t always up to par – though there would always be a cute heart on top!
Your show’s a love letter to the coffee shop hustle. How does it hit differently now that Gen Z are unionizing their barista gigs and sipping iced lattes through late capitalism?
Excellent question! To be honest, the coffee shop hustle is still real, especially with gig culture full throttle and side-hustles are becoming full time careers, and in turn quite demanding. Gen Z embraces the idea of “work smart, not hard,” and I wish when I was younger I’d have taken to that more. I think we can learn from Gen Z as they seem to breeze through capitalism like it’s not there.
The show’s premise is basically: an anthropology degree meets minimum wage. Were you trying to write a comedy or just casually expose an entire generation’s career trauma?
I honestly think I started with exposing a generation’s career trauma, but the more I examined what I had to say I realized that if you can’t laugh at it, you’ll cry, so I figured I’d make it a comedy too. I think that people, when they look back at interesting and awkward parts of their life, use humour to describe them, and that’s how the show was born.
Confessions are funny, heartfelt, and a little unhinged – kind of like most open mic nights. Was that intentional or just method acting?
Oh, very intentional! I gave this show the title it deserved because you are witnessing me in my early 20s in my full awkward glory trying to survive the world known as early adulthood.
You’ve toured this show to more than 38 cities. What’s the wildest audience reaction you’ve ever had? (Bonus points if it involves a flat white and tears.)
You’ve done your research! At some locations, I would serve coffee to the audience if I could make it work. I think the wildest reaction I had was in the Edinburgh Fringe in 2015. It was mid-festival, and my show time was verging on the point where comedy really comes out to play – I was at 6:30 in the Gilded Balloon Teviot, which is a comedy venue. People were starting to get their drink on, and in the middle of the show someone stood up and tried to offer me a beer. I managed to laugh it off and exclaim that it wasn’t coffee, and fortunately he sat down again, but after the show he tried again! It was such an amazing Fringe moment.
Joanie treats her customers like wildlife. If the Fringe crowd were animals, what species would they be – majestic stags or overcaffeinated pigeons?
It depends on what time of day it is. Until about 6pm, they are over-caffeinated pigeons who had a yummy brunch, so the caffeine is working in their favour, but from about 6pm and on they become what can only be described as well-lubricated chimps who had one too many beers, but that’s the beauty of it all – that audience will take a chance on anything, ready for a laugh, and that’s what makes a Fringe audience so magical.
10 years in, does Joanie still dream of a life beyond the barista apron – or has she accepted that the grind is the vibe?
What’s interesting is that this show is loosely based on me in my 20s working as a barista, but unlike the character Joanie, I didn’t graduate studying anthropology – I graduated from theatre school. I think being an actor involves a lot more of the hustle and grind than anyone knows until they’re immersed in the acting world. If you aren’t going to an audition, you’re recording a voice over, and if not that then writing a play, and if not that then writing a grant. Then, much like myself, you end up working out where to take your solo show, writing to presenters trying to ask if they want your show for their season, and figuring out what’s next – but that’s part of the fun. You never know where a “cold call” e-mail will take you, and I think it encourages us to continue to take chances on ourselves. I’d say while the grind is the vibe, maybe it’s not such a bad thing.
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Rebecca Perry’s Confessions of a Redheaded Coffeeshop Girl is at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival until 25th August. For tickets and more information, visit: tickets.gildedballoon.co.uk