LESSONS FROM AN ADULT GAP YEAR
Retail queen Jane Shepherdson’s life became richer when she left her career behind
On 23 December last year, we were driving through the hot, arid San Joaquin Valley towards Yosemite. It certainly didn’t feel very Christmassy, but my husband Barry and I were getting used to things being different. I had a beef rib joint in the car for Christmas dinner instead of turkey and trimmings.
Once we crossed the valley, we started climbing towards Yosemite – where we would be staying for a few days – and the air cooled as we drove into the mountains. It is intensely beautiful. There are pine trees everywhere, deep blue lakes, and the granite peaks of the Sierra mountain range tower in the distance.
New Year was spent in San Francisco – going to the cinema followed by a few glasses of bubbly with our landlady, Janice, who was the only person we knew there. Barry and I were seven months into our trip of a lifetime, and were almost getting blasé about the incredible landscapes of America’s West Coast – almost, but not quite!
I can remember exactly when we first thought about taking an adult gap year. It was May 2016 and we were on holiday, when I got an email from a headhunter asking if I was interested in a role with a large retail brand in San Francisco. I wasn’t, but when I mentioned it to Barry, he told me he had always wanted to live there. We went on a hike – always good for unravelling thoughts – and, by the end of it, we had decided to take an adult gap year along the west coast of Canada and the USA.
We both felt the time was right. I had been CEO at Whistles for eight years, and had helped turn the brand into something relevant and contemporary, but it needed additional financing. I felt that perhaps now might be a good time to leave it to new management. Barry was an immigration lawyer and had been working very hard for a long time. We don’t have children, and my parents had both passed away the previous year, which had been very emotionally draining, as I was close to them both. We needed a complete change, adventure and opportunity, and this was it. We wanted to break out of the rut that we were in and change the whole narrative of our lives.
We reckoned that by renting out our home in London, we could probably get by for a year, so we set about clearing it, giving away most of our possessions and storing the remainder. I felt lighter and freer with every piece I discarded. Barry found it more difficult to cast off the shackles of our life, and most of the few disagreements we exchanged that year happened then.
We had a very rough plan. We’d start in New York and drive from there to Vancouver in Canada. We would spend three summer months exploring British Columbia, then take time to drive down through Washington and Oregon to San
I am determined to find joy in the small things
Francisco, spend the autumn there, and then drive to LA, and spend the winter there. That would give us three months in each city to experience what it was like living there, and plenty of time to explore the whole of California and the rest of the USA on our way back to New York.
We boarded the QM2 bound for New York on 8 May 2017 with two suitcases, our miniature schnauzer Dexter, his bed and a selection of ‘stylish separates’ for dinner on board. Packing for the trip was, in itself, a liberating experience for me – my uniform of jeans and a striped top would suffice for most days, I had a few Isabel Marant tops for when I wanted to look smarter and, for sartorial emergencies, a Prada jacket, Gucci shoes and Miu Miu cropped trousers. Add to that my trainers, Birkenstocks, leather jacket, a couple of sweatshirts and a North Face jacket and I was ready for anything!
The drive across the USA took three weeks, and it opened our eyes to the scale and beauty of the country. We planned it to include a mix of culture and open spaces, visiting Fallingwater, the stunning Frank Lloyd Wright house, Prince’s recording studio Paisley Park, Yellowstone National Park and the beautiful Teton Range mountains near Jackson. It was also a journey of discovery of our own freedom.
When I realised I was going to be spending pretty much all my time with Barry, I wasn’t sure how we would cope. As it turned out, we got on remarkably well, and our relationship has only grown stronger. I think I became more laid-back and less anxious about things I couldn’t control.
I did miss the ease of being with people I worked with – there’s something very natural about socialising with work colleagues. I relied on social media to keep in touch, and it delivered. It made me feel less cut off from the world I knew. I soon realised I didn’t need company all the time. Barry and I are good friends: we make each other laugh and are content to be quiet when there is no need to speak. We’re also adventurous, and would egg each other on when exploring. However, spending 24/7 with anyone for 365 days is a big ask, but Dexter was there to keep the peace.
It took time to adjust to being in the moment and experiencing everything around me. It’s a weird feeling, not really having anything that you need to do, and some mornings I woke up wondering what the hell we were doing. Why on earth were we travelling the world for no reason? When that happened, we would drive off and explore somewhere new, and the feeling soon dissipated. We kept reminding ourselves we had worked all our lives, we were only travelling for a year, and that we shouldn’t feel guilty for enjoying it.
British Columbia is probably the most physically beautiful place I have ever been, and Vancouver is a city like no other. We lived there for three months and explored the islands off the mainland, sitting on the back of the ferry, struck dumb by the scenery surrounding us – glassy clear waters, forests of pine trees, snow-capped mountains, white sand beaches and so few people. It is a place to cleanse the soul.
From there, our journey took us down the coasts of Washington and Oregon, where the beaches are wild and dramatic, and the Pacific pounds them with huge surf.
Los Angeles drew us both in immediately, with street art everywhere and friendly people who invited us for barbecues. There is just such energy there that it’s hard not to love it. Barry likened it to opening a can of positive thinking each morning and drinking it throughout the day. We even drove to the Grand Canyon one day to marvel at the most incredible natural edifice. The freedom was intoxicating.
We’re back in the UK now, and I think I’ve come to terms with my new identity, although I’m still not sure how to describe myself, having been defined by my job for so long. The weird thing is that having worn the same few clothes for a year, I have little desire to return to the designer wardrobe I maintained prior to leaving. The trip has changed my perspective on what it means to be happy. Instead of rushing to find work, I want to learn something new, and use my skills in different ways. I want to live in the moment. It’s harder now, as I need to plan my life, but I’m determined to find joy in the small things, and I definitely have a more positive outlook. More than anything, I still feel free. I’ve realised I like to travel light and experience life, instead of becoming weighed down with things and other people’s expectations. Would I recommend an adult gap year to anyone else? As they say in LA, ‘For sure!’