About 20 bras sprawled around the stage and a playlist of busty anthems set the tone for what to expect in Gluttony’s The Bally before the production even begins. When it does, audience members are enthralled by Caruana’s effortless vocals in a busty parody of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s ‘Memories’. From the moment we’re acquainted, we know Caruana is right: she is our favourite busty bitch.

Caruana had a breast reduction at the age of 18, and this cabaret show sees her fight through the associated taboos through song and monologue. Using every synonym for breasts you can think of, she questions why girls who develop early are sexualised and shares the consequences with piercing vulnerability.

Throughout the show, all the questions you might have about getting a breast reduction are answered. From the why, to how many cup sizes she dropped and even a memorial for a nipple lost post-op (RIP lefty).

The songs are few but spread expertly over the 50 minutes we spend together. When you expect a musical break to sing through the trauma in the cabaret’s emotional climax, our expectations were subverted and for the best. The weight of the darker themes of the show hung in the air as Caruana divulged experiences of sexual harassment and the alarming death count of women lost to violence in Australia so far this year — a number she has to check before each show in case it’s risen and in the show’s week-long run, it has.

Pre-recorded voiceovers add supporting characters — like her surgeon and the persistent honking weaved between catcalls — add background context, while Caruana’s comedic timing and pace are on point. A touching highlight was Caruana’s tribute to her Nanna, a woman with long diva nails who cared for Caruana after her reduction, and who stared down breast cancer three times until it cowered away in fear.

Nanna, who was in the audience on the night of review, was credited for fashioning an inventive tearaway Sound of Music-inspired costume that Caruana wears in the finale, a full circle moment for the early-blooming theatre kid. No longer shackled by the ungodly weight of a double F cup size or the weight of societal expectations, Caruana’s Fringe debut of Underwire is an evening of catharsis for those who can relate — and much-needed education for everyone else.