IN a city with more hairdressers per person than any other in Britain, Drew Quayle’s The Salon had more material to play with than a WAG’s extensions. His play tells the story of freshly dumped divorcee Carol (Lynn Francis) and her two colleagues at a County Road salon owned by gay actor Neil. It was a play with Liverpool running though it like letters through rock. It overflowed with hilariously realised stereotypes and scissor-sharp one-liners.

There’s bolshy, bawdy, whip witted and brilliantly believable Sheila (comedienne Lynne Fitzgerald), mahogony-hued beautician Tia (Maria) and plastic gangster Tony, with his four wheel drive, dock apartment and Next couch. Great too are walk-on customer parts like Gina, clad in pyjamas and Ugg boots.

“Men are like crisps,” observes Neil in a Loose Women-style debate after a drunken night out . “If you always have plain you’re never going to find out how beef tastes.” “Or Quavers” says Sheila reflecting on her own experiences. Less meaty was Neil’s character - firmly in the mincing Larry Grayson mould. The Salon had echoes of that other women doin it for themselves comedy, Nine to Five, but much, much ruder and with gratuitous swearing. The problem was it had almost too much material. With laugh-out line lines, and a warm heart, the plot just needed a good trim.

EMMA PINCH