(FORTUNE Magazine) – If anything infuriates Carolyne Roehm, it's the assumption that she is a rich woman who dabbles in the dress business. She has toiled in Manhattan's garment district for 16 years, designing everything from polyester outfits for Sears to silk dresses for Oscar de la Renta. But it is unlikely that she would be presiding over Carolyne Roehm Inc. had she not met Henry Kravis at a pre- Christmas cocktail party in 1981. Both were trying to mend broken personal lives. The father of a girl and two boys, he was separated pending a divorce. She was still licking her wounds from a brief, unhappy marriage two years before to Axel Roehm, a member of the German family that founded the Roehm chemical company. Urged by her friend French couturier Emanuel Ungaro -- ''Carolyne, you will never truly know what kind of designer you are until you leave Oscar'' -- she decided to start her own business. Her pal Kravis agreed to provide the money, and in April 1985 she produced her first collection to glowing reviews. Seven months later she married the owner of the enterprise. Kravis, 45, looks after his investment, attending showings for all Roehm's major collections and examining her books once a month. Once he was foolish enough to criticize one of her sketches -- ''Who would wear that?'' he asked. A clarification of corporate policy followed: Roehm makes all the decisions that pertain to design. Her creations are sexy, glamorous dresses selling for $690 to $6,000 that men love and women find flattering. Says her friend Lauren Veronis: ''Those strapless gowns with their boned bodices stay up and yank you in.'' Roehm's clothes are for a woman whom the designer describes as ''not just a traditional mother, but someone who has activities besides her home life and who needs to dress at night.'' For herself, in other words. Though her four- year marriage to Kravis is childless, ''I haven't given up on the idea of children,'' says Roehm, 38. ''I'll think about it tomorrow.'' If tomorrow is anything like today, she's probably going to be too busy. Her day starts at 6 a.m. when she rises to practice the piano -- last December she set herself a goal of learning 18 classical pieces, and has five or six under her belt so far. She breakfasts on coffee and one Oreo cookie. When she is designing her line, she's in the office by 7:30, where, to the operatic strains of Verdi or Giordano, she plugs away for the next 12 hours, arriving home with barely enough time to bathe, slip on one of her languid gowns, and go out with her husband, a dedicated party hardy. Sighs Roehm: ''Henry and I find time to have a private conversation with difficulty.''