The Rake

‘I’D HAVE SO MUCH ADRENALINE I’D GO AND SHOOT GUNS AT THE ARCADE. THEN GO FOR GELATO’

he Rake meets Gala Gordon at the distinctly unrakish hour of 9am, a positively American time for an interview. What’s more, it’s in darkest Streatham, where a family home has been requisitioned temporarily for our photoshoot. The house’s calm suburban exterior conceals a feast of curiosities. In a room just off the hallway stands a stuffed ostrich, several birds in specimen jars and, in the fireplace, a model zebra. The walls are lined with anatomical drawings of eye-opening detail. None of it seems to faze our subject in the slightest. She sallies in, grabs a coffee, and sets about the questions, dressed for

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