Alexander McQueen politically correct? What gives?

After all, the designer has partially made his name on shock value. If one were to divide theatrical fashion shows along cinematic lines, you might slot McQueen's in the horror category Past runway outings have featured live wolves, rings of fire, macabre clowns and models splattered with fake blood.

But his show for spring 2003 marked a new phase. While it had its spooky moments, it also was a thriller, a drama and a Technicolor blockbuster. And with his breathtakingly detailed designs for next season, the designer famed for one of the darkest minds in fashion also proved he has a sunny side.

For that, McQueen had Paris at his feet.

"I want people to understand my mind, that there's a romantic side and not just a Tim Burton and sinister side," McQueen says. "With all the terrorist incidents and talk of war, I was trying to be more politically correct for the times."

Indeed, if McQueen's collection owes a debt to any movie, it's the stirring 1986 drama The Mission, one of the designer's favorites. Set in South America in the 18th century and starring Jeremy Irons and Robert De Niro, the film chronicles the struggles between the Church and two colonial states over the destiny of the native Indians. On McQueen's runway, his clash of cultures and natural splendor played out to spectacular and moving effect.

Chalk it up to maturity Now 33, McQueen has mellowed, trading slashed T-shirts for bespoke suits and confrontation for confidence. The scrappy son of a London taxi driver who once described himself as a "big-mouth East London yob" is morphing into a proper English gentleman--and one of fashion's fastest-growing power players.

"At 26, you might say I had a grudge with society," McQueen says flatly "I've grown up a bit. My agenda's much more sorted out in my head, what I like in life. I'm much more subdued. I'm trying to take a backseat and chill out and refine my sensibility."

Subdued, indeed. Not one four-letter word soils his speech during a 45-minute interview And no G-word or L-word is muttered either, those being Givenchy and LVMH. Since selling 51 percent of his company to Gucci Group in late 2000--for what sources estimate at $7 million to $10 million--McQueen has not minced words about his bitter stint as Givenchy's couturier from 1997 to 2001. He's lashed out repeatedly against the French luxury group for what he described as a "nightmare" experience.

Now, he's more interested in working than ranting. Told how retailers and editors are dazzled by his couture-like workmanship, McQueen gives credit where it's due. "Yes, I've had that experience in couture, and I can see it through," he says. "That cream gown in the first section of my show used 260 meters of organza, and it took a month's work We had three people working, cutting out all the circles. I think we have orders of about 20 for that dress."

These days, McQueen quietly sells about 30 couture pieces per season to clients including the likes of Queen Rania of Jordan. Yet despite pronouncements after the Gucci deal that he would launch a couture collection--and even show it in Paris at the same time as Givenchy's show--McQueen now says he has no plans to launch a separate couture line. "The more I work the way I do, the morel think couture doesn't need a show. Couture should be about a personal experience," he says. "If I ever did a show, I don't think it would be for the press. But who knows? My mind changes like the wind."

And his opinions still come in gusts, too. McQueen expresses some surprise over the number of orders that have been placed for his outrageous, impossibly beautiful feathered tops and vests. "I don't know where they're going to wear them," he says, laughing. "You might get shot down, mistaken for a chicken--or a macaw."

Alright, so his dark side still lurks. As he explains his collection's references to scarlet macaws, he notes that the large South American parrots are sometimes barbecued and eaten in the wild. "Kentucky Fried Macaws," be notes with a laugh.

Amazon natives have long been a source of inspiration for McQueen--so much so that the government of Brazil once extended an official invitation for him to visit. This season, McQueen let loose with some of the most vivid and exotic colors seen in any fashion capital.

McQueen says he actually designed his show in reverse, starting with the tropical looks and constructing his narrative backward. He enlisted filmmaker John Maybury to create the massive video backdrop, depicting a young maiden fallen off a ship--or thrown overboard--like some pirate-era "Survivor" candidate. The next segment featured a host of ghoulish vixens with glow-in-the-dark-eyes, as if our maiden had happened across an island of savage warrior women. Finally, a tropical paradise exploded on the runway.

"I'd never done color before, and I was thinking that was going to be a surprise for everyone," he says. "I've always loved birds and feathers, and I've always wanted to do prints." One of the prints, a complex tie-dye (see page 110), incorporates 26 colors and took almost five months to perfect. "It was mind-blowing how hard it was to do," he says. And the price? About $15,000 in the store.

But work, as always, is what drives McQueen. It's almost hard to believe that he's been on the international fashion scene for about a decade. Even as a "young" London designer, McQueen could talk numbers and strategies beyond his years, and from the beginning his drive has been to turn "McQueen" (he has this natural ability to refer to the label separately from himself in the third person) into a global brand. So it's no surprise that the word "merchandising" continues to come up in his conversation--and in a positive context, yet. He characterizes his partnership with Gucci Group, and particularly his relationship with its chief executive Domenico De Sole, as professional utopia. In fact, while accepting his honor as Revolutionary Designer at the recent Vogue/VH1 Awards, McQueen thanked both De Sole and Gucci Group creative director Tom Ford specifically for understanding the importance of "creative freedom."

"(De Sole) has never, ever tried to have any involvement in the creative process of McQueen. The belief he has in me is so good," he says. "I haven't felt that before from any other company. None of the labels overlap. We're not propped up against each other. That's what makes the company great. It's not about figures. It's about individual personalities working on doing their best for their brand's image."

Now that he has a flagship boutique in New York, with plans to open others soon in London and Los Angeles, McQueen says he studies weekly sales reports and uses the information to make his clothes better. "For example, I might find out I fit a jacket too tight," he says. "I also have to think about other markets. For example, Japanese are smaller than anywhere else in the world." Market sources estimate his current volume at about $10 million, up from about $6 million at the time of the Gucci acquisition.

But even though the business is still small, McQueen does not plan to become too democratic with pricing. He says he doesn't believe in diffusion lines, preferring to emphasize his top line. "That's why we put denim right into the collection," he says. "In this environment, people are more willing to pay for something that looks unique rather than a black cashmere roll-neck. I've always believed that clothing should be in your wardrobe for a lifetime, even if you don't wear [a particular item] every season. I like the idea of people finding something of mine in an antique shop in 2050."

And what about his personal legacy? McQueen says he wants to be known as a "genuine person and not some out-there fashion celebrity. "Putting designers on a level of superiority is wrong. It alienates people," he says. "You can't even ask me who is my favorite designer anymore. The workload is so much that I don't even give a moment's attention to what other people are doing."

But he is paying more attention to himself. For example, McQueen says he's spending more time touring Contemporary art galleries in London. "I'm educating myself more and buying a lot more art," he explains. In fact, McQueen's growing collection of large-scale works by Joel-Peter Witkin, Abigail Lane, Nick Knight and others meant he had to buy a bigger house, his second London residence, to house them all.

While an intensely private person, McQueen's maturation and personal contentment is there for the world to see. He's slimmer and healthier looking. Except for the odd hamburger, he consumes only organic, healthy food and exercises regularly with a personal trainer. "I feel better," McQueen says. "The only thing is, there doesn't seem to be enough hours in a day."

He's also changed his personal style. Lately, he poses for most portraits in a suit, having launched his own bespoke men's line in March, which is sold through his London atelier and his New York store. The suits are made by Huntsman of Savile Row. Granted he doesn't wear suits to the office every day, but asked if he enjoys wearing them, he replies, "Yes, I do very much. I have four Huntsman suits now. It's amazing to wear them. It really is couture for men."

It wasn't so long ago when McQueen was taking his bow in tattered jeans--occasionally even dropping his drawers for the cameras. So, like Marky Mark before him, are McQueen's pants-dropping days over?

"Yep," he says laughing. "As you get older, there's not so much to see--or more that you need to hide!"