The idea behind My Life in Dresses is simple: construct the story of a life through the contents of a wardrobe. At least, that’s what one assumes when one reads the title.

Rather, it seems that Sorcha Kenny, while telling us a few stories about her own vintage gúnas, is more interested in the stories about other people’s frocks. She tells the stories of getting those stories, until we’re left not so much with the dramatic story of that titular life, but of the presentation a project.

The project is interesting, but diffuse. There are video clips, audio clips, letters read over a live mic, musical interludes, and even a book, which gets passed throughout the audience. All of these theatrical touches sit uneasily with Kenny’s bid to make the whole thing appear slightly impromptu, giving the show a feeling of having been overproduced.

Like the dresses, the stories are second-hand, and only a few of them seem to hang well together as a piece of theatre. Kenny flicks through her own experiences, but chooses not to slip them on fully, which is a pity: when the focus was on her, the fit between idea and execution was rather flattering.