The times, how they change
These days, though, women are increasingly keen to grow their own businesses rather than babysit their husbands’ (the number of women-owned businesses has surged by 50 per cent since 2000, far outstripping growth in male-owned businesses, and the number is projected to pass the one-million mark by the end of this decade). Still, every entrepreneur could use a loyal confidant whose strengths fill gaps in her own skill set. Small wonder that some are turning to their husbands for the kind of help that money can’t buy. Observes Barbara Moses, who has a PhD in psychology and who interviewed hundreds of businesswomen for her recent book Dish: Midlife Women Tell the Truth about Work, Relationships and the Rest of Life, “A lot of women say, ‘Who can I trust but my husband? With him I’m not going to be ripped off.’”
When Judy Pigott of Duncan, B.C., set out to launch Udder Guy’s Ice Cream, she ran into trouble with her first recipe: the perfect vanilla. “If you can make vanilla, you can make anything,” says the former college teacher, who never guessed that making ice cream “was this massive chemistry thing.” Someone had to do serious research, and she knew who that someone would be: husband Yves Muselle, a retired hotelier and restaurateur with time on his hands. “I said, ‘You’ve got to get on the Net and learn all about sugar and cream.’ Every single day we went to a greasy spoon, me with my notebook and calculator, and we’d work on our formula.” Seven months passed before they finally got it right in 1999. The quest hooked Judy on inventing new flavours and Yves on supporting her obsession. Now their product is touted by a Lonely Planet travel guide, which calls it the best ice cream on the West Coast. Fans can buy it at more than 100 stores in B.C. or at the Udder Guy’s Ice Cream Parlour in Cowichan Bay, where Yves fills the cones and kibitzes with customers (he also did the painting and decorating).
A subtle seduction
Barbara Moses has seen mixed emotions among entrepreneurs who bring retired husbands on board. In cases where “retired” means pushed out or passed over, the husband’s sense of loss and diminution can unsettle a wife who’s bursting with ambition — and who misses being part of a dynamic, two-career couple. How this drama plays out “will have a lot to do with the woman’s psychological maturity and the degree to which her identity is tied to the status of her husband,” says Moses Luckily, Judy Pigott felt no need for Yves to be a player. “He does exactly what I tell him to do,” says the 60-year-old. “He’s quite content to spend hours at that. He’s calm; I’m wired all the time. I get really bored if I don’t have something to challenge me.”
Yves never planned to join the ice cream business. His wife’s enthusiasm seduced him by degrees, a common pattern among men who work for their spouses. The recruitment is a lot like romance: One night he leaves his toothbrush at your place; next thing you know, you’re sharing the closet and making room for his golf clubs.
