10 Nov 2025
Laura Bill meets the observational comic whose musings on St Albans life have gone viral on Instagram…
“Watching stand-up is like watching ice skating,” she says before taking another sip of coffee. “It’s amazing when it’s good, but don’t we kind of want them to fall?”
Comedian Bronwyn Sweeney and I met in Caffe Nero supposedly for me – my idea – to ask her some questions about how her Instagram following took off after she moved to St Albans… but we almost hit it off too well and I couldn’t help accidentally oversharing with her.
She has that kind of personality. Warm and empathic – everything that throws me off my professional hard-nosed hack persona. I jest. (See? Being funny is hard. I can’t do it…)
She is definitely a people person, which comes out in her observational style of comedy. She’s got beautiful teeth and is naturally hilarious. We talked about the function of being a people-watcher and being able to see satire in everything becoming part of our survival.
The 39-year-old started off in advertising where she worked her way up to creative director. Around ten years ago she decided to dip her toe into the comedy world and said even though she was nervous her American accent helped because she sounds like a confident woman giving a TED talk: “Around 2015 my agency gave everybody £100 to spend on a little passion project. Some people did baking courses, some people did ceramics and I did a two-day stand-up comedy course in Lewisham.
“It seemed nerve-wracking. I used to say that I could sell anything but myself. And that’s what it felt like. Very exposing. Weirdly, I went in quite cocky because I’m a good public speaker.
“But going from being the funny friend to making strangers laugh is a very different thing.”
The first exercise was to stand up and describe themselves. Afterwards the class members said how they saw the aspiring comedian in terms of their appearance and any preconceived ideas: “Does she look like a drug dealer? Could she be a teacher? Is she straight? Is she gay?”
We keep coming back to the identity thing and she tells me that when you’re a comedian as soon as you get up on stage the audience decide what they think about you. It’s her job, she explains, to disarm them in the first minute.
This must be why Jo Brand makes jokes about eating cake. It was the same in teaching. You have to draw attention to all your quirky things before the kids do. As a self-deprecating person I really relate to this – I’ve never found it a problem to laugh at myself, in fact I find it really grounding and it takes the pressure off.
Bronwyn continued: “I was always trying to talk about my identity and trying to make that make sense to me.”
The daughter of a plant engineer, she moved around the world as a child. She said she got her accent from attending international schools and jokingly describes herself as “American’t”.
She was born in Blackpool to a Zimbabwean mum and an Irish dad: “I went from Blackpool to the American equivalent of Blackpool. which is… Florida.” We laughed.
“But I grew up in Greece, I’m half Irish, half Zimbabwe and people say ‘Oh you’re Zimbabwean’ because that is what they can see when they look at me. So the comedy teacher was right about that.”
The conversation veers off as I notice a little black plastic box on the floor to poison mice with. Caffe Nero have placed an A-frame sign over the top of it which is clearly failing to disguise its identity: “I’ve lived in houses with rodents in London,” Bronwyn tells me.
What was her next step in comedy after the course and some initial London gigs?
“My Edinburgh Fringe experience could not have set me up more for success. I went up to the Fringe with a supportive agent and I lived in a great little student dorm accommodation. I had a month sabbatical from my job and still got paid because I’d been at my agency for so long
“But it’s like walking through real-life social media every day. You’re walking past all these posters with everyone getting five-star reviews. Everyone’s talking about what a great time they’e having.
“And like, I just, I struggled to get the numbers in early. So there was a lot of performances to quiet rooms.
“A lot of people go to Edinburgh and make it. I was just lucky to survive.”
She cried a lot and questioned whether she wanted to be a comedian.
After one of her shows, things seemed brighter when she spotted Graham Norton in the audience: “I ran after him, I was just like, ‘Graham, did you like the show?’ And he
said it was really funny and then he put it on his social media. I thought I’d made it and was so happy but the next day there was just 12 people there again. I had seven people walk out of a show once. Awful.”
Coming back to her working life in London, she questioned what she was doing: “I would have to hang out in the office until 8pm and then dart across London to go to a gig. You’re not on stage until 9pm.
“When comedy works, it’s like, it’s the biggest rush you’ll ever experience and it’s really satisfying.”
Somehow she managed to fit in some time for internet dating too which is how she ended up in St Albans:
“I went on [dating platform] Hinge and I remember seeing my boyfriend – my now boyfriend – and thinking he’s really fit and he was from St Albans.”
Their first date was at Must Wine bar on George Street and she loved it.
The next day they had breakfast at Hatch. I thought: “Wow. This is delightful!”
They got into a relationship and she was still living in North London when she decided to make the move to St Albans: “I was walking home when I looked down an alleyway near my house and there was a woman taking a sh*t and I thought, wow, it’s time.
“I loved my time in London. But being here, I’ve just really enjoyed, like, the life that it’s giving me right now. I just feel really grateful and I think, I think it’s about recognising the privilege of it.
“It’s novel to me to live in a place like this. It’s a very walkable city with lots to do. What St Albans has given me, which is really nice and this is going to sound really cheesy, but what I’m really grateful for is it’s really helped me find my voice as a comedian.”
Her Instagram posts about St Albans life started the day that the Charter Market was cancelled because of high winds: “And the winds were actually a light breeze. I did a little video. It was just funny to me and my boyfriend.
It was a light breeze. And people liked it.
“And there’s a joke I said about my wallet being stolen in St. Albans and it’s the only place where that happens and you get it back with more money in it than in it before.”
She said that that line did well at a London gig so she decided to put it on her Instagram and it “blew up”.
She then posted something about St Alban Day and the festival which people responded well to, as well as reflections on the new vape shop in Victoria Street.
Her boyfriend was already a keen golfer, so they have started playing in Redbourn: “Golf is fun because there’s a goal. When you get good at hitting the ball, you can try to hit the ball further. And then when you hit it further, you can hit it to a direct place. There’s always something you can learn and do.
“And I really like the driving range that we go to in Redbourn because everyone is really friendly. You just roll up.
“It’s such a nice way to decompress from the day.”
We had a chat about how many things that women do involve over- thinking and talking loads. And I cannot disagree with her, as an overthinker and an ‘overtalker’ myself – is that a word?
We have been talking for hours when she looks down at her phone and sees a message from the founder of Glaze bakery in George Street who she is going to see next.
I had a few more minutes to ask about her upcoming sell-out gig at The Pioneer Club on November 20: “I love The Pioneer Club. I first went there to party to with the retired ravers but it wasn’t until I went there to plan the comedy night that I realised what an amazing space it is and all the incredible things they do.
“Places like The Pioneer are so important. Did you know they do book quizzes there? And it’s a skate park. Maybe I should run a children’s comedy course?”
Finally I ask what she would say to somebody who fancied taking up comedy: “You won’t get better by just being funny to your friends. You’ve got to get up on stage and you’ve got to try it.”
I was buzzing for hours after we met up – Bronwyn is truly inspiring, and her mix of strength, insight and vulnerability is both intriguing and entertaining.
She’s won awards, been on the BBC and hit the London and Edinburgh scene but I can’t help but feel she is going to be an even bigger sensation over the years to come, and it all kicked off here in St Albans…
To follow Bronwyn on Instagram go to @bron_com
