Diane Spencer: Exquisite Bad Taste

So then, tell us about your show?

It's called Exquisite Bad Taste, and it's a new step for me because I'm not only describing events that happened to me, but my thoughts as well, whether they are linked to events or not. The title is something that a barman uttered to me after I did some new material – the man can name a cocktail, so he can name my show. It's funny. Sorry, I should have put that in sooner.

How have your previews been going?

Good, in that when they laugh that's good, and when they don't laugh that's good because I can fix it! The worst preview sadly had my Mum in it. She was one of eight people. I whizzed through 60 minutes of material in 42 minutes. DYING ON MY ARSE.

Is it ultimately worth coming to the Fringe?

Yes! It's fun! You get to do what you love everyday and you can see your friends just down the road instead of missing them because you're in Plymouth and they're in Aberystwyth. Hopefully people see you and you can make connections with people to do more work later in the year, or you might go in a completely different direction – a friend of mine did a great show on the Free Fringe which was then turned into a book!

Do you have a guaranteed, surefire flyering technique?

No, but I have a few key things I do. I always ask them a question to gauge their level of English – there are many people enjoying the Fringe but if they can't speak English beyond the basics, they won't come to my show and I don't want to spend time talking to them, harsh as that sounds.

I learnt this from rambling on for about ten minutes to two very enthusiastically nodding Spanish people who then said "Thank you um... we are not English..." and it's rather deflating. I don't push, but I persevere. I won't spend 30 minutes yelling at people, I'll spend 3 hours chatting to people.

What's your health regime for the Fringe?

IMPORTANT. Last year I let everything go. I ate a cake before the performance and a burger with cheese after and then one day my designer jeans with the rips in them actually ripped, and my thigh rose out of the tear like a hot loaf of bread. I hulked out of my jeans. I'm just going to be really aware of what I eat, and take my sports kit with me so I can go for a jog (unlikely).

What's the worst mistake people make at the Fringe?

Becoming abusive, and self important. That, or just drinking too much.

Do you pay your taxes?

Yes I do – in two separate countries because I'm a resident of New Zealand. I have to do two tax returns, but thankfully my Dad helps me with the UK one. That was really a landmark moment; that a comedian was being paid so much and harbouring it. They have risen to the realms of popstars and footballers, and sadly the reputation of all may be tarred too.

What was your favourite joke when you were a kid?

Jasper Carrott pretending to retake his driving test. He mimes holding the wheel with one hand, then bending over, and reaching down into his car, obviously not looking where he's driving and saying to the test instructor: "Do you want some music on? I've got a Status Quo cassette somewhere." It really made me laugh and made me think of my Dad's driving.

What helpful things have you learned from previous years that will make this Fringe the best yet?

Take a small umbrella, have at least three pairs of flat shoes and alternate wearing them – no matter how comfy your trainers are, they will be rubbing by day three. In fact, looking after your feet is essential. Have a bottle of water on you at all times and a useful bag with compartments. Of course, look as fabulous as you can, but align this with practicality. Be organised and then allow the events to take you where they will! I sound like such an old mare.

How does being a secondary school teacher compare to being a stand-up comedian? Are there any transferable skills?

Being a secondary school teacher is harder. After my first week at the Edinburgh Fringe (I'm comparing this, because it's the closest regular employment environment that a comedian can have) I was delighted, energetic and enthusiastic. After my first week of teaching I sat in a bar for six hours, saying nothing, just getting over the noise and drinking lots of herbal tea. I have had terrible gigs which have roughed up my sleep, but being a teacher I had nightmares about eight foot tall children and I was screaming till my voice was raw, then I'd wake up. Horrible.

Saying that, once I got underway, teaching was massively rewarding and a brilliant experience. There are many transferable skills. You have to 'entertain' children – one class, for one hour, for five hours a day. That's with a lesson plan and interaction. It's similar to maybe doing two Edinburgh shows a day. Three if you talk a lot. You learn to trust your own instinct, assume authority over a room, and notice how your information reacts in people.

One female heckler described you as an 'embarrassment to women', how do you plan to live up to this illustrious title?

Haha! I'm so impressed you asked about this! It shows you genuinely care. This isn't a title, it is a compliment! I was just being myself last time when this drunk woman shrieked it at me while her eighteen-year-old daughter hid her face, so I'll just be myself this time, and hopefully she'll come back with more ignorant statements. That heckler simply highlighted a lack of tolerance that still exists when it comes to women being openly sexual. It doesn't fit in with an archaic view of being ladylike; then again, neither does having a job. Marie Curie was an embarrassment to women, so was Emmeline Pankhurst and Amelia Earhart because they did things that came from an inner sense of passion and ambition, regardless of their sexual organs.

My inner sense of passion is to make people laugh, whatever has befallen them. For one hour, I just want them to forget all their problems and laugh. Life is too short. Joan Rivers is my icon – she's another 'embarrassment to women' but once you realise that this 'collective pride' is just something making us feel ashamed and holding us back, you can laugh and move on. Plus I'm looking after my nails this year, how can a lady with lovely hands be an embarrassment to women?

Who else are you hoping to see while you're in Edinburgh?

Famous: Jim Jeffries. Fuck yeah.

Reliables: Alan Francis. He has a great Scottish lilt and lovely descriptive moments of storytelling. Jo Caulfield. She's witty, acerbic, delightful. Phill Jupitus. Want to see his stand-up, he makes me laugh in real life! Tony Law. Hilarious.

Free: John Robertson. Dark, insane, and lovely man. Stella Graham. Knew her in New Zealand, solid gags, and tomboy attitude so keen to see her show. Kevin Shepherd. Great circuit act, doing something different to do with Nietzsche.