PERHAPS it is because there are so few women running fashion retailers, but
Jane Shepherdson – all bright, breezy, effortlessly cool 5ft 5in of her –
has remained an inspirational figure even since she quit her post as brand
director at Sir Philip Green’s Topshop at the end of 2006.
Inevitably, the high-street comeback of the lady who was crowned the most
important woman in fashion by Drapers magazine was going to be a huge event
in the fashion world.
When it finally came last week, with news that Shepherdson had bought a 20%
stake in the Whistles ladies clothing chain, and been appointed its chief
executive, onlook-ers in the industry were left scratching their heads in
bemusement.
It would be hard to pick a brand less like Topshop. In contrast to the fashion
power-house, which racks up profits of more than £100m a year, Whistles is a
boutique brand that barely makes any money. Worse still, it has a reputation
as the staid brand of choice for “yummy mummies” in southeast England.
At the Whistles office in London’s Regent Street, Shepherdson waltzes up the
spiral staircase, looking at least a decade younger than her 45 years. She
is dressed in navy jeans that accentuate her sylphlike figure, matched with
a tailored white shirt, navy cardigan, navy Armani coat, brown leather boots
and a sumptuous brown leather hand-bag from Miu Miu.
We park ourselves in a minimalist meeting room away from the displays of bags,
dresses and scented candles. Apparently the building was once the home of
fashion designer Karen Millen.
So straight up. . . exactly why is she doing this?
“It just felt like it was thebrand somehow,” says Shepherdson.
“It fitted perfectly with what we saw as an opportunity in the market.
Retail has become polarised between the real discounters, which have
exploded,” she says, rolling her sharp brown eyes disparagingly, “and all
the designers at the other end. I just felt there was actually very little
choice.”
And the middle-market retailers are still quite dull? “Yes and I’ve been there
before – that would be veryboring,” she says determinedly.
Whistles has only 40 stores and 40 concessions, mainly in southeast England.
But Shepherdson insists that “small is beautiful”.
“The strategy is not about huge expansion, but there is certainly growth
potential – both in Britain and internationally. We are thinking about
opening a big flagship store that illustrates the vision for the brand.
“But one has to be a bit careful – it really needs treating with care. First
of all we need to make sure that Whistles really stands for something and
decide where we are going with it.”
So who is the Whistles shopper? “I think Whistles has been for someone who
wants to look pretty, likes colour . . . quite feminine, someone who wants
to update her wardrobe – perhaps with a cardigan or something in a similar
style to something she already has, but nothing too scary.”
So someone nothing like Shepherdson, I suggest. After all, with her blonde bob
and feminist streak she has never been a frivolous girlie girl. She was
recently reported as saying that “if I wear a dress, I feel like a
footballer in a dress”.
She looks aghast and then quivers with silent laughter.
“I think there is an opportunity to broaden who Whistles is selling clothes
to. There are a lot of women who are not being enticed. There are a lot of
people who want to buy clothes of good quality, but who don’t want to buy
the absolute latest thing.
“I mean, we could introduce a whole casual element, we could do a great jeans
range. Branded jeans are so difficult to navigate your way round – there are
up to 100 brands now – it’s quite daunting. But we could do a really
focused, credible range.”
Is she feeling the weight of expectation on her shoulders? Surely once you
have been labelled the most important woman in fashion and the whole
industry is watching, embarking on a new venture must be a little
nerve-wracking?
And it can’t have helped that her former employer, Sir Philip Green, said last
week that buying into Whistles would be a test of whether Shepherdson could
develop a business.
“There is a huge expectation. But I keep thinking, what have I got to lose . .
. my money, my reputation . . .”
I laugh at her bravado. “Well it’s not the end of the world, is it?” she
retorts with a barely perceptible sneer.
“I’m not a worrier – that’s not my nature,” says Shepherdson. “You can’t
really be a worrier in this business. It’s very volatile and the customers
are notoriously fickle. You have to be quite philosophical – but I do
genuinely like it. It’s great fun.”
What drives her on? After helping to transform Topshop from a cheap, tacky
outfit into the most creative retail business on the high street, surely she
has nothing left to prove.
“It feels a bit like a luxury; it’s something I want to do, rather than have
to do. But I’m a very competitive person. I like to do things really, really
well. I want the best shops on the high street, the best service and I want
to make customers smile. If people could come into my stores and say ‘wow,
that is fantastic value’ and ‘oh, the sales assistant offered me a cup of
coffee’ that would be great.”
So are free cups of coffee in the Whistles business plan?
“If that’s what people want, that’s fine. We want to do . . . the unexpected,
look at all kinds of ideas that are in tune with what women want,” says
Shepherdson, waving her arms with a flourish. “I always thought that British
women were the best dressed,” she says provocatively.
I fail to mask a slight snigger. “I do!” she protests. “I mean everyone talks
about the French, but I always thought that British women were more stylish.
They often used to mix a bit of vintage with a bit of designer, a bit of
high street. They had a reputation for being a bit magpieish. They dressed
more confidently and I’ve always quite liked that slightly ‘I don’t really
care’ kind of look. But I think we have started to lose a bit of that
individuality and everyone is starting to look the same.”
So where does the queen of shops buy her own clothes?
“Armani, Miu Miu . . . erm . . . Topshop,” she says pausing for thought. “It
still looks really good. I’m a bit promiscuous really. I’ve bought some
stuff in Gap recently. I browse Selfridges’ second floor.
“I think I’m quite representative of a certain sort of woman who is darting
round but hasn’t found somewhere that fully satisfies her, and that’s what I
would like to change.”
And is she daunted by the prospect of buying into a retail chain just as
Britain’s economy teeters on the brink of recession?
“Well it’s not always the most expensive things that suffer. Sometimes people
decide not to buy five cheaper items and instead buy one really nice shirt
that will last; in a way some people trade up and other people trade down
from designer brands.”
I’ll take that as a “no” then. “Well, obviously, I would have to be a complete
idiot if I wasn’t worried,” she says slightly testily.
The daughter of a biochemist and a maths professor, Shepherdson grew up in
Bristol and was educated at the independent Clifton High School before going
to North London Polytechnic to read business studies. “It’s a university
now,” she laughs.
She lives in Islington and is married to a criminal defence lawyer. It’s no
surprise that Shepherdson’s first ambition was to be a designer. “I wasn’t
good enough,” she says.
Did she really try? “Not in a public way,” she says, looking slightly
embarrassed.
Instead, she joined Topshop after finishing college, rising through the ranks
over 20 years, the last eight of which as brand director, following an
inspired decision in the 1990s to order a job lot of tank-tops – 500,000 of
them were sold in one week. When she quit at the end of 2006 her departure
sent shockwaves through the fashion industry. Shepherdson insists that she
didn’t leave because of rows with Green or because of his decision to sign
supermodel Kate Moss to do a collection for Topshop.
“We never fell out. I had been there for 20 years. It got to the point where I
just didn’t want to go to the same lift, to the same building every day. I
thought I have achieved something, but now it’s time to do something else. I
just felt I needed to break out.” During the next few months she will have
to focus on picking the ingredients that are needed to make Whistles a
success. She has already begun a thorough review of the chain’s working
practices and this week embarks on a round of store visits to familiar-ise
herself with the nitty-gritty of the retailing experience.
Shepherdson is well aware the doubters will be desperate to knock her down,
just so they can gloat “she’s not that good, is she?” But one person who is
convinced she will be successful is Lucille Lewin, who founded Whistles in
the early 1980s with her husband Richard. On Thursday, Lewin sent
Shepherdson a bouquet of flowers with the simple message: “You will do
wonders for Whistles”.
The industry, gathering here for the start of London Fashion Week in seven
days time, will be watching with bated breath to see if that comes true.
JANE SHEPHERDSON’S WORKING DAY
THE Whistles boss wakes in her Islington home, north London, at about 7.45am –
she hates to get up in the dark. Jane Shepherdson leaves the house at about
8.30am and hops on her bike for the short ride to the Whistles office in Old
Street.
Mornings are spent reviewing sales figures and liaising with her directors.
Lunch is usually a relaxed affair with stylists, designers or colleagues at
local pubs and restaurants. Afternoons are spent visiting stores, reviewing
trends and products. She leaves the office at about 6.30pm and spends
evenings with her husband at a restaurant, or keeping fit.
VITAL STATISTICS
Born:August 23, 1962
Marital status:married, with no children
School:Clifton High School, Bristol
University:University of North London
First job:trainee at Burton Group (now part of Arcadia, which owns
Topshop)
Salary package:undisclosed
Home:Islington, north London
Car:Nissan Figaro (it was a leaving present from Sir Philip Green)
Favourite book:American Pastoral, by Philip Roth
Favourite music:David Bowie
Favourite film:The Godfather
Favourite gadget:iPod touch
Last holiday:skiing in France
DOWNTIME
“I RIDE a lot, and go skiing – nothing particularly interesting. I just like
to have a nice time,” says Shepherdson.
She also visits art galleries and goes to the theatre. Last week she saw
Othello at the Donmar Warehouse in London. “My friend booked the tickets six
months in advance – apparently they are taking bookings for Macbeth in 2009
– I mean 2009; I might be dead in 2009.”
Obviously shopping is high on the agenda too, as is keeping fit. “I’m very
fit,” says Shepherdson. “I go running a lot along the canal near my house,
battling with the cyclists.”
