F rancesca Forristal sits in Oxford’s Jam Factory with a liquorice tea, talking tattoos and her interest in what makes a song or music artist queer, when her friend and comedy partner Ed Scrivens hurries into view. “Oh, wigs, wigs, the wigs, can I see? Can I see?” she says, in reference to what he’s carrying. One of the wigs is bad,” he warns her, before stating a positive: the other wig, a black one, actually does look like the picture on the packaging. Dressing up is important in their lives.