I was that girl who fainted during the school ‘health talk’: a nightmare disguised as an educational lecture about female health issues, including all things vagina. So I had to brace myself for this. The Vagina Monologues is an episodic play by Eve Ensler, a lady on a mission to promote the empowerment of said body part. It’s exactly what it says on the pink and black poster: a series of monologues that confront, unabashedly, all vagina-related issues, from sex to rape to masturbation to birth to menstruation to multiple orgasms. In spite of all the misgivings arising from much Wikapedia-trawling pre-performance, I was, quite simply, bowled over by Helen Parker’s production. Hilarious to the point that the stomach aches from laughter, this show will win you over, Y chromosomes and all. I know what you’re thinking: as a person with a vagina, it might be far easier to empathise with the phrase “pussies unite”. But my decidedly male Plus One will assure you that the appeal of this play is not limited to the proud owners of Coochie Snorchers.

The best thing about this play is the superb casting: Emily Taylor Hunt had the audience in stitches from the moment she declared, very solemnly, that her vagina was not just angry, but PISSED OFF; Ella Writer portrayed skilfully the transition from confused and abused child (tricky, in patent red stilettos) to experimental and awestruck teenager. The wonderfully kooky Giulia Galastro made me cringe slightly in her delineation of the C-word, but her comic timing in a later monologue, featuring the naming of her vagina as Itsy Bitsy, was faultless. I am in awe of Alice Martin, following her mind-boggling showcase of every kind of moan known to man and woman: despite appearing a little uneasy at first, she soon had us all in wide-eyed amazement as she flitted deftly from nonchalant show-and-tell to ecstatic, writhing demonstration. Eleanor Penfold’s portrayal of a less pleasurable vagina-related topic was effectively harrowing and had me squirming in my seat.

The worst bits about this play can mostly be categorised as First Night Glitches: there were definite lighting hiccups, and some unfortunate faltering by the Vagina Presenters. That aside, Ensler’s brilliantly funny script is carried off with impressive aplomb, and the resulting effect is, I have to admit, extremely empowering. Do I think you should go and see this play? Yes. YESSS. YESSSSSSSSS!