Gemma Chan is perched on a chair in her dimly lit hotel room, barefoot, hair pulled back into a bun that didn’t quite catch the front pieces. She is telling me that all she wants, after the biggest year yet in her career, is to get a dog. A rescue, probably. For the first time all night, she is just Gemma.
Moments earlier, she was holding court in a voluminous, rose-colored couture gown. It was like a scene in a movie: two seamstresses flitting about her, making sure that her crinoline petticoat is fluffed just so, that the train grazes the floor perfectly, and that the ruffle on the gown’s bodice flounces at just the right height, all done under the direction of designer Jason Wu. With newfound fame comes…
