PARIS, Jul 25, 2002/ --- "Minimalist is just like intellectual fascism. It's a giant imposition," sniffs fashion's master maximalist Emanuel Ungaro, still glowing from the positive fall-out from his succulently successful couture presentation this month in Paris.

"Minimalist is for people who don't understand color or are afraid of it. Luckily, it's over," scoffs Ungaro, attired in his customary white coat in his Ave. Montaigne atelier.

Since Yves Saint Laurent's retirement and Oscar de la Renta's return to New York, Ungaro has effectively become the doyen of the Paris couture.

At 69, he's a contemporary of Karl Lagerfeld and Valentino, but of the three, only Ungaro has a Paris couture house bearing his name.

"Valentino called me the other day complaining about some article where they said he was the oldest couturier. 'You know Emanuel, I'm actually younger than Karl!' he was practically sobbing," laughed Ungaro.

For the record, the International Who's Who makes Valentino 70, Ungaro 69, and Lagerfeld a mere 64.

Though the most eminently practical of men, the source of Ungaro's inspiration for his exotic designs is esoteric: his dreams.

"The great thing about dreams is that there are no rules. They come from one's experience, but are never expected. They give me the freedom and liberty that I need to create," explains Ungaro, whose obsession with nocturnal imagery began when a boyhood attack of tuberculosis kept him in bed for six months.

Ungaro, who began his career as a tailor's apprentice to a family friend in Aix en Provence in September 1948 and opened his own house in 1955, sold majority control of his family business to Salvatore Ferragamo five years ago.

The deal, which gives Ungaro complete liberty to design as he wishes, not only made the couturier financially, but also guaranteed the future of his fashion house.

Though he remains an energetic figure, Ungaro has lightened his workload of late, last year appointing the talented young Italian Gianbattista Valli as the house's ready-to-wear designer.

"I knew Gianbattista well so I chose him. There's a code in my work, a perfectly defined style at Ungaro that he can respect and that's what he is doing," insists Ungaro.

Despite designing fewer collections, Ungaro has not changed his habits.

He still reads Le Monde from cover to cover every evening ("I can't sleep if I don't," he says), and avoids lunching out and answering the phone ("If someone really has to speak to me on the phone, they can make an appointment!").

He visits Paris' Clignancourt market most weekends in search of antiques to add to the elegantly diverse collection in his converted 7th arrondissement house.

It's one of his few extravagances -- that and good Bordeaux.

Note to connoisseurs: Manny's favorite tipple is Chateau Trotanoy from Pomerol.

"If God has made anything better he has not revealed it to me," says the couturier of the intense, full-bodied wine that needs a decade to mature.

Every morning he drives across the Seine to his atelier in his faithful Mini Cooper.

It's parked outside as we speak, with CDs by Frank Sinatra and, believe it or not, Parliament Funkadelic visible in the back -- a reminder that his life radically changed in the late '80s with marriage to his sexy and sophisticated Italian wife, Laura, and the birth of their beautiful daughter, Cosima.

Echoes of that transformation appeared in his latest couture show - an extravagant celebration of boudoir chic and sensual fashion - and its almost schizophrenic soundtrack - a brilliantly bizarre blend of funk and avant-garde orchestral works from Samuel Barber and Stravinsky.

Asked about this mélange, Ungaro brags, "Did you know where the first performance of The Rites of Spring was? Right across the street!," pointing to the Théâtre de Champs Elysées opposite his headquarters.

Though grand and immensely opulent, Ungaro rejects any suggestion that his mode is caught in a time warp.

"Fashion has to change as women have evolved. Women have no desire to be bourgeois anymore, to be easily satisfied. I don't design any suits for couture anymore because what would be the point. No one comes to couture to buy a suit, they come to purchase dreams."

Ungaro recounts that he recently received a fabric in his atelier that he thought would be perfect for a suit, only to discover a few days later that Zara had already made suits out of the same material.

"What's the point of competing with that? We couldn't economically. And, I have to say, theirs wasn't badly cut at all!"

These days, the couturier adds, he's living in a "state of grace" where he can design freely.

"I never make sketches, because that freezes creativity. I am much happier with my scissors and pins working on a model that I appreciate. Like a sculptor, I get a sort of personal orgasm out of it."

Enormously proud of his antiques, the Left Bank home and his Provencal house, a ruin he has meticulously restored for over 15 years, he muses, "I swore when I bought it I'd spend half my year in the Luberon. What a joke! I'm stuck in this atelier for weeks on end."

And though Emanuel is still the boss, Valli's arrival has definitely updated things at the house -- from the famous spring 2000 ad campaign featuring a German shepherd in S&M garb licking the feet of model Kirsten Owen, to the soundtrack of the recent couture show.

But don't dare suggest that Emanuel has any intention of retiring.

"I lead a good life as a couturier, so why quit?" he reasons.

"Mademoiselle Chanel was 85 when she quit. She practically died working. So I have plenty of creativity in me yet."