PHOENIX, Ariz. -- Talk about good fortune. Morton Myles, a '60s-era fashion designer, has had more than a wee bit.

Last month he had many parties in London to celebrate his 75th birthday, as well as an earlier party at the Phoenician Resort here for his many friends.

We can't be at his parties, but I want to take you to his Scottsdale home, which I was privileged to visit recently.

I have never really been envious of those who have so much more than I have or ever will have, but I do envy the ability to put so many fabrics and colors, bric-a-brac and furniture styles, paintings and sculptures, and antiques and modern styles into a house without their remotely resembling clutter.

A place for everything, everything in its place. That's certainly true for Myles. Each item is placed where it is because it is in harmony with what is beside it, above it or in front of it.

An invaluable Chagall hangs in a sitting room opposite the master bedroom. A Toulouse-Lautrec and a Dali hang there as well.

Myles left New York City for Arizona 10 years ago and has lived in his townhouse the past four years. He gained almost instant celebrity in 1961, when Jacqueline Kennedy wore his blue sleeveless linen dress on the cover of Look magazine for a family photo portrait with President Kennedy, Caroline and newborn John-John.

Mrs. Kennedy had come to Myles for some dresses when she was still a senator's wife, and she assured him her husband would soon be president.

And he was, of course. And there she was, the first lady, wearing Myles' robin's-egg blue dress. It was so simple, and yet her sense of style would become legendary.

Times are changing. And nowhere more than in the fashion world, he says.

"It's over," Myles says. "There is no style, no quality dressmaking. There is no more fashion. It's just clothing."

The designer had worked with Herbert Sondheim and Larry Aldrich before starting his own business, and he never looked back.

All the while, he was gathering trinkets and massive pieces of furniture for his Gramercy Park townhouse in Manhattan, a London flat, an oceanfront house in Fire Island, a Southhampton estate and an apartment in Monte Carlo. Now they have all come together in the light of the Southwest.

From the moment you enter into what was once an open terrace but is now an enclosed foyer, you are bedazzled by the collections in every direction.

I'm not sure I even said "hello" before exclaiming over the African art, masks and ornamental figures that stand proud in a huge etagre.

I truly did not know where to look first. What makes this house more than a museum-like display is the brightness and mix of floral prints on chairs and couches, plus walls, which, if able to talk, would fill more than you could ever hope to read in a history book.

With all that hangs or is displayed on tables and in nooks throughout his home, it is the host himself, with his witty dialogue and penchant for detail in his storytelling, who adds to the wonder of what he has assembled through the years.

Yes, he once created saleable clothes from his perch on Seventh Avenue, designing for the Jeunesse label (the first with his name on it) and special collections for Saks Fifth Avenue.

But I learned more about the man as he pointed out his needlework and petit-point cushions, close to 30 (two are framed), many of his own design.

His collections include obelisks of tiger eye, pill and snuff boxes; paintings of old ships and home interiors; and vegetable art in his kitchen and breakfast area. One such piece is the vertical painting of a carrot.

The 5-foot-high carrot was painted some years ago on a leaf from one of his tables as a surprise gift from the late Lester Gaba, a writer for Women's Wear Daily. Gaba painted it while Myles was out shopping.

He has collected these and more from all over the world.

When his decision to become a designer rather than a doctor (he studied medicine at New York University) became fruitful, he also made his first major furniture purchase: a corner chair from a 16th-century Dutch plantation that had been in a Lord & Taylor display.

The chair, now in his foyer, is priceless, he says.

Other pieces include a child's brass bed from the 19th century that is the frame for the sofa in the foyer sitting area. In front of the couch is a lacquer green antique Chinese chest/coffee table that had been in a friend's house in New York. He always admired it, and when she died, he bid on it from Arizona through Sotheby's catalog.

Did I forget to mention he has started playing piano again after a 50-year hiatus? Or that his precious and departed 18-year-old Bichon Frise, named D'Artagnan (called D'art), traveled in the seat next to him on 11 flights to Europe?

When we set up our interview, Myles said to me, "We'll have a nice walk down memory lane." And we did.

The afternoon flew by as we talked and I got to know more about the delightful gentleman who designed a first lady's pretty blue dress.

I wanted you to know him, too.