Iain Stirling presents his struggles for relevance as those of a relatable millennial man trying, but not altogether succeeding, at being a decent husband, and father to a young child. The subtext of Relevant, though, is can the voice of Love Island and one half of a celebrity power couple still cut it as a stand-up? Especially as one of the foremost ‘haircut comedians’, those boyishly good-looking acts from the noughties, in skinny jeans, ruffling their hair on Edinburgh Fringe posters, snapped up for television presenting jobs, and now approaching middle-age?

Well, the answer in Stirling’s case is a resounding yes. The 36-year-old comic cheekily compares his career to that of another ‘haircut’ survivor, Chris Ramsey, who has similarly monetised his marriage with a couple’s podcast. The Scot unravels that thread for an extended exploration of being a kept man, or at least earning less than his presenter spouse Laura Whitmore. Stirling finds an expert balance between braggadocio and humility, which he extends to the demands of fatherhood compared to motherhood. The credit he banks from being an avowed feminist (who nevertheless warns strongly against thirtysomething men who tell you they’re a feminist) enables him to make sweeping but generally sharp observations on skirmishes between the sexes in the domestic sphere.

Similarly, as an Edinburgh native who grew up working-class with limited aspirational possibilities, now living in what he characterises as poncy London, he straddles class distinctions. He can blithely dismiss business types making deals in coffee shops, while championing McDonald’s. The fast-food restaurant is somewhere he feels better-than but absolutely at home in, and he’s winning on the cognitive dissonance required to hold such competing thoughts in his head. Despite his voice’s fame, it can still confuse and intimidate the English, though the response he attributes to one effete individual sounds suspiciously close to a well-known Miles Jupp line. Regardless, feeding off a lively Glaswegian crowd, Stirling clearly relishes the back-and-forth exchanges and that transmits itself strongly from the stage.

In his exaggerated self-portrayal, he’s constantly troubled by social interaction and second guessing himself. The show’s core tale, which he returns to consistently after successive diversions and distractions, is an epic department-store shopping quest that he’s undertaken on behalf of his wife. In less accomplished hands it might seem excessively twee, the irksome whining of an attention-seeking manbaby. But Stirling is too in command of his animated acting out, his physical expressiveness seldom remarked upon. And he's generally too self-aware to fall into that trap, with a cynical baseline outlook and modest take-home message that undermines clichés which are often tagged onto stand-up shows as big revelations. Despite everything that he suggests, he's doing fine, both at home and at the mic.

Iain Stirling: Relevant tours until Friday 31 May; reviewed at King’s Theatre, Glasgow; main picture: George On A Boat.