Kent-born comedian, writer, and globe-trotter Liz Bains has the kind of backstory that sounds perfectly ordinary on paper — until you actually hear her tell it. She’s lived, worked, and wandered across the world, but instead of morphing into a private school gap year cliché Instagram wanderluster, she’s arrived at Edinburgh with a gloriously sharp, unexpected hour that slices through every cosy stereotype about women of “a certain age.”

Bains describes herself as somewhere between spinster and childless cat lady — although, in a niche twist, she’s currently between cats — and takes aim at the dusty old adage that she’d make “good wife material.” From there, she deconstructs the concept of being viewed as someone else’s property, all while making you laugh so hard you momentarily forget the quietly radical point she’s making.

On stage, she’s an irresistible blend of forensic comedy — imagine Jessica Fletcher investigating crimes in Dobbies garden centre, armed with a mic instead of a trowel. The set moves briskly through her loathing for Mel Robbins, Andrew Tate, and the digestive aftermath of the cabbage soup diet, before slipping in a killer feminist punch about women’s football being “the game played with better table manners.” Jokes arrive thick and fast: Epstein Island, overlooked female philosophers, the indignities of dining alone — all delivered with a wry smile that makes the punchlines land twice as hard.

Her delivery is unhurried but precise, her structure deceptively tight, and her persona so comfortable you almost miss how good the craft is. There’s a definite Pam Ayres vibe here, though swap the coy innuendo poetry for a handful of pampered dick jokes and a more modern bite.

Bains feels refreshingly different. She’s proof that there’s still a sizeable audience for smart, experienced, razor-tongued comics who’ve actually lived enough to have a point of view — and the writing chops to make it sing. At one point, she quips that “high fashion never ages” — a neat metaphor for the show itself. Great comedy, like well made tailoring, doesn’t date. And Great Wife Material is proof that when the thread is strong, the laughs don’t fray.

An absolute delight, and ideal for an afternoon hour out for everyone.