If it is politically incorrect to have a finely constructed phone, Mr. Nuovo asks, “does that mean we are forever banished to bits of plastic?”

Not if he has anything to say about it. And this is the foundation of his happiness today: he has everything to say about Vertu. As the company’s creative director and principal designer, he can execute on a single vision — his own.

“I made it very clear when I hired for this,” Mr. Nuovo says, recalling how he assembled his team. “I said: ‘You know what, this is going to be a dictatorship creatively. You can all contribute. But I’m not holding back.’” Vertu, based in Hampshire, England, has 600 employees.

The results of his unbridled self-expression are undeniably satisfying artifacts. Vertu phones feel good in the hand. They’re just heavy enough to connote solidity, but not so heavy that they drag down your jacket pocket. They flip open with a slow, exacting movement. Their ringtone — a custom-made ditty that he calls Sandpiper — is the opposite of shrill.

Even if you start off a skeptic, as I did, you can’t help but acknowledge that, like Montblanc pens or Rolex watches, Vertu phones offer something seductive — “addictive!” Mr. Nuovo says. You don’t need one, of course. But you might just want one.

Mr. Nuovo, meanwhile, got what he wanted: a new connection to his creative mojo. Early next year, he says, he will show another side of what that mojo can do, teaming up with a Swedish company to start the F.Nuovo Collection, a line of premium travel accessories informed by the nearly four million miles that he’s traveled on Nokia and Vertu business over the last 20 years.

Talk about R & D — Mr. Nuovo estimates that he’s spent more than a year of his life in the air. While it’s too early to give details, he says, he is sure of one thing: his new collection will be functional and beautiful. With not a bit of plastic in sight.

E-mail: proto@nytimes.com.

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