If the Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus was a shop in an area chock full of designers and hipsters and aesthetes, this is what it would look like. It’s small, there’s no getting around it, but it’s beautifully packaged and dripping, actually dripping, with curios and coffee table books and prints and posters and postcards that you just have to pick up and flick through and make that little«ah!» sound with your mouth, floor to ceiling the place is filled with gifts of the very giveable kind, gifts that you’d be happy to get yourself. Go and browse and wander and I double dog dare you not to find at least fifty things you want to jag for yourself.