Mail On Sunday You Magazine - Gail Force

TV presenter Gall Porter may have found notoriety in lad mags (and on the Houses of Parliament), but it's her naked ambition that leaves Stuart Husband in no doubt that she's here to stay.

Who does Gail Porter think she is? Most people - at least, those who've given the question any thought think they have some idea: a laity TV presenter whose propensity for throwing off her clothes at lad mag photo shoots gained her instant notoriety when one of those shots was projected on to the Houses of Parliament. For an instant, Gail's bottom and right breast threatened to engulf the seat of government, and seemed to epitomize the craving for fame-at-any-price of the new breed of PAWs (presenter, actress, whatever) rotating between slots on The Big Breakfast and any number of cable channels, and appearances in dodgy Brit gangster flicks. Gail, of course, has her own take on the question. I'd say I'm some bird from Edinburgh who's done all right for herself, thanks very much for asking,' she chirps. 'Who do you think you are?'

In fact, the enigma of Gall Porter is a lot harder to crack. She's a curious combination of wide-eyed, childlike innocence and steely adult determination. The first quality is immediately apparent when she walks through the door of the West London studio; she's teeny at five-foot-two-and-a-half, and her desultory outfit - black hooded top, grey slacks, old-school trainers - billowing over her size six frame, gives her the look of an elf on dress-down Friday. A black baseball cap is jammed over her straw-coloured hair, which only accentuates her Disney heroine face: huge, almond-shaped, blue-green eyes, pert little nose, cupid's bow mouth. She's make-up free; she never wears it during the day, she says. It's part of her anti-ageing programme, along with an early-morning cold shower and at least an hour in the gym, and It's certainly working; while she'll be 30 next year, she looks about 13, and is 'constantly' asked for ID in off-licences.

However, the second quality comes into play when she shakes your hand. The arm may make a Twiglet look robust, but the grip is firm; as she fixes those eyes on yours and says, 'Hi, I'm Gail,' you sense the number of times she's gone through this ritual, the adult anxious to get on, get the job, make her mark.

She launches into a series of anecdotes, which seem designed to show off the multi-facets of her character: she's sorry she's late, but, despite the fact it's only 10.30 on Monday morning, she's already had to record a voiceover for a TV show (she works hard); she declines tea in favour of a glass of hot water - not even a slice of lemon - because she's gone into detox following a 'heavy' party the week before (she plays hard but looks after herself); she was up late last night, 'engrossed' in a David Baddiel book (she's no bimbo); she's off later to pick up a mini-trampoline from Hamlays to install in her flat, so she can bounce around while watching TV and calm herself down (she's a hyperactive bundle of bonkers energy).

Her enthusiasms are unfeigned; we're ostensibly here to discuss her latest, role - presenting links for reruns of Frasier, Friends and their ilk to mark the extended airtime hours of the Paramount Comedy Channel. It's not exactly Newsnight, but to Gall it's 'an honour. I love comedy, so I was quite flattered to be asked, to say the least.' However, it has to take its place among the raft of TV McJobs that Gail's engaged in: there's Pulling Power, a car programme on Carlton; the occasional Top of the Pops, plus The Movie Chart Show on Channel 5; and she recently presented the Scottish BAFTAs and the online Q Awards - 'Davina (McCall) did them brilliantly for TV,' she says, with exquisite magnanimity.

Channel 4 has pulled the plug on her late-night people-on-the-internet-do-the-funniest-things show, Dotcomedy. 'It's always sad when programmes don't work out for whatever reason. I had a good time doing it, but it happens all the time in TV. You just have to put it down to experience,' she says.

But there's her production company, Heroine, run with her friend Charlotte Wheeler, which has several ideas 'in development', and a mooted movie, The Great Bear, a black comedy about a bunch of terminally-ill people, only one of whom can have life-saving treatment, which seems to have become mired in development hell. '1 love working,' beams Gall serf-evidently. I'd hate not to.'

Despite all this, there's a nagging feeling that Gail has yet to land the Big Job; there's no Big Breakfast, despite the occasional stand-in with Johnny Vaughan, no Big Brother, no She's Gotta Have it. She demurs: I'm exactly where I want to be. I can be driving cars on a Thursday, talking to Arnie Schwarzenegger on Friday. I'm gaining experience in all these areas. And I'll be doing some stuff in America later this year, which I don't want to talk about right now, and if the movie falls through, I'll get another one.'

This faitaccompli is announced with no trace of irony, and this is another thing that makes people a little uneasy about Gail - her unapologetic ambition. She doesn't pause to question, say, whether or not she can act; she just has a cast-iron belief in herself that's not, I venture, a very British thing. 'Why is that?,' she asks incredulously. 'What's wrong with being ambitious? I'm not embarrassed about it. I've taken loads of knocks, but I'm like a Weeble - I wobble but I don't fall down. I bounce back.'

She's always felt this way, she says, from the time she was a child, growing up in Portobello, a suburb of Edinburgh. Her father Craig is a building contractor, and her mother, Sandra, still works for the family firm, despite the couple's recent divorce. The family wasn't interested in showbusiness - Gail's brother Gordon, 27, works with the disabled - but Gail quickly became immersed in a land of make-believe. '1 used to drag my mum to the movies,' she says, 'and I'd come out and be on a massive high, lost in what I'd just seen. I always wanted to be Princess Leia and go out with Luke Skywalker,' she says, her eyes growing even wider at the memory. She immediately made her plans. 'I wanted to work in movies,' she says. 'And nothing was going to stop me.'

Her self-confidence set her apart at school, where she was nicknamed 'Snobby'. She left for Watford 'without looking back' to do an HND in visual communications, and wrote to hundreds of video companies 'begging for jobs'. She started as a runner, making tea, collecting dry-cleaning, once being ordered to clean some railings with a toothbrush (this last slight must be seared on her memory, if the bitterness with which it's recalled is anything to go by). After four years of dogsbodying, she made a show reel, sent it to 'everyone', and got an audition and job on a live children's ITV show called Tigs within a month. Gall was in. I've never been nervous in front of a camera,' she says simply. 'Just excited. I get a huge buzz from it.'

Many see Gail's innumerable nude photo sessions - for FHM, GO, Loaded, Esquire - as the key element in her plans for world, or at least, light-ish entertainment domination, but, according to her, this was one thing she hadn't factored in. I'm not saying my clothes just fell off,' she concedes, 'but I thought, "Well, I'm not going to look like this in 20 years' time, so why not?."' She insists that she didn't know about the Parliament stunt and was 'in shock' ~ at the time, she says, but she's over it now, and everyone else - here she gives me a look - should be over it too. But doesn't she feel that her bottom's going to loom large throughout her career?. She was mercilessly ribbed by Mark Lamarr when she appeared on Never Mind the Buzzcocks. Hasn't she blown her chances of doing Panorama? 'Certain people dismiss me as that bird with her backside,' she says, 'but I don't understand this desire to put people down.' She ponders. '1 didn't think anyone would get so upset. Maybe it's because I looked so young.'

Her child-like veneer extends to her surroundings. She describes herself as a 'Peter Pan-type who loves make-believe', and her Soho flat is full of toy robots, racetracks and interactive Buzz Lightyears. 'Do you know that Tom Hanks movie, Big?.' she asks. 'Well, that's my life. I get to be a big kid at work and an even bigger kid at home.'

Alongside the playpen atmosphere, however, there's a fastidious streak. Gall always kept her childhood 'den' immaculate and made her mates take their shoes off before they came in. Today, she's unable to leave her flat without making sure the duvet is straight - '1 once made the bed with someone in it,' she giggles - and aligning shoes in racks and magazines on tables. 'The word "anal" has been mentioned,' she concedes.

And Gail is unyielding in another area of her life - her refusal to countenance marriage or children. I'm just not interested in either,' she states. 'If someone wants to marry me in Las Vegas and I get to dress up as Elvis that's fine, but I don't want to do the church thing.' She insists that her parents' divorce has nothing to do with her feelings. It's always been that way. I was the one to play doctors and nurses rather than mummies and daddies,' she grins lasciviously. (Gail seems keen to hint at a darker side, saying that she loves living in Soho for 'the sleaze - as an observer rather than a participant, of course', she adds.)

It's not that she's against relationships; she reckons she's had about five or six in her life, the longest lasting around a year, the most famous being with Keith Flint, the tongue-pierced lead ranter with the Prodigy, which gave the press endless opportunities to run 'beauty and the beast'-style headlines. 'The attention was difficult,' she frowns. 'We only went outside about once.'

Is she with someone at the moment?. 'Yes, I've been seeing Dan Hipgrave [from the band Toploader] for a while while, but I really don't like talking about it. Although I will say that, contrary to what you might have read, we're not getting engaged - he bought me a ring, but not one of those kind of rings - and we're not moving in together. I happen to be looking for a new flat and he came to the estate agents, and everyone seems to have put two and two together and made five.'

Her antipathy toward children is surely down to the fact that she regards herself, mentally at least, as being barely out of her teens. 'That's part of it,' she says. '1 just think it would be incredibly invasive. I don't want the responsibilities. I remember as a child, I never wanted to change a doll's nappy. I thought that was disgusting.' She shudders. 'And imagine the mess real babies would make.' Crucially, they'd also necessitate Gail's removal from the spotlight 'Sure, I'm enjoying all the attention,' she says. I've worked hard for it. But people think I just took my pants off.' You did, I say. 'I know,' she rejoins. 'But I worked bloody hard too.'

Gail's dogged determination means she's not going to fade from view any time soon. 'There's no way I'm disappearing,' she confirms. 'Every slight I get, every snide comment, makes me even more determined. You don't get rid of me that easily.' She shrugs. 'Sorry, everyone.' It's as close as she gets to humility.