“…And you realize that it wasn’t what you wanted after all…”

In April of 2013 Sheila Moon Athletic Apparel seemingly disappeared off the face of the planet. I told my friends and a few key retailers that I was taking a hiatus. I had no idea whether I would return and continue my business, or if I would return at all! After all these years, I feel ready to share that episode in my life.

When I returned from Interbike 2012 I felt like my whole castle of cards was on the verge of tumbling down. I was exhausted and had no voice, the normal post-Interbike physical state, but this time was different. The number of visitors had declined dramatically, as had the number of pre-season orders. I felt like my soul had been sucked dry by my employees, my customers, and by random suppliers vying for my attention. I had the feeling that I just didn’t sparkle like years past. Every last ounce of my passion and enthusiasm was gone.

I was at my breaking point. Every night I would pour myself a stiff drink when I walked through the door, and I would refill it until I fell asleep at 8:30 or 9:00 p.m. Every morning, I would awake at 2:30 a.m. with a grumbling tummy and my mind swirling with all the unresolved problems I could expect to greet me when I walked through the door that day. Every day was fueled by mega-doses of caffeine so I could survive the problems that faced my day. I was haunted by visions of doom. “Where was I going to find the money for payroll, rent, fabric, and production? How was I going to motivate this or that employee to do her job? How was I going to feed myself, and my dog Luna?” My once lean, sinewy racer’s body was packing an additional 40 pounds, and with the exception of my morning hike with Luna I was getting no exercise – there were pressing problems at the office that only I could resolve, of course! To make a bad situation worse, the actual designing portion of the job had shrunk to a few stolen moments on the weekends and holidays when my warehouse wasn’t filled with the incessant cacophony of “urgent” problems, ringing telephones, pages of unanswered e-mails, random internet distractions, and the occasional truly important fire that had to be extinguished. I was no longer the designer, I had become the President, CEO, Manager…, jobs for which I was woefully ill-equipped.

It was slowing dawning on me that my business was at one of those points, the point when the only way to jump to the next level was a large infusion of capital and a CEO to manage that money and the growth of the business. With the tech world on fire, what venture capitalist or investor would be interested in a small clothing company? I would either remain a small business, living hand to mouth, month to month, or, I would find the right person with whom I could partner and take the business to that next level. 

To that end, I attended a financial seminar in October 2012, and met with a dynamic woman counselor.  She planted a seed of hope in my overwrought brain, “the other option is to sell the business and walk away, or maybe, just walk away?” Could I really do that? Just walk away? I walked out of that meeting feeling lighter and freer than I had in many years. It felt like the world had once again opened up and my possibilities were endless.

In theory my mind was free, in reality I still had a business and a number of obstacles to overcome before I could be truly free. The first obstacle was the business itself. I still had a few hundred thousand dollars in Spring 2013 orders that needed to be produced and shipped. That was one of the easiest and most familiar obstacles. In my normal fashion, I put my head down and buried myself in my work, successfully completing every task. There were more than a few tears and tantrums, many more sleepless nights, quite a few empty bottles of booze, and financial juggling nightmares. 

The second obstacle was what to do with 3500 square foot warehouse full of a business lifetime’s accumulated shit and a 700 square foot apartment filled with my most treasured possessions. I was elated to find the perfect, and perfectly priced, 500 square foot space. The challenge of consolidating 4200 square feet worth of junk into that 500-square-feet turned out to be a liberating experience. I discovered many long-lost memories. I then jettisoned most of them, along with the overwhelming weight of my business. I don’t know how I made it happen, but somehow, I shoehorned everything into the new place with just enough space to access inventory, the computer, and shipping supplies. It was not pretty, but it was functional. I was blessed to have two wonderful friends and now former employees, Jody Cox and Liza Hartlaub, who agreed to stay on and ship the remaining inventory. With the small amount or orders and a bit of money coming in I could travel like a queen!

Next, if I was just going to walk away, where was I going to walk to? I had to be able to drive because I would not leave my best friend Luna for an entire year. It had to be inexpensive because I had very little money. Finally, it had to interest me. I decided on Mexico and Central America, possibly South America. I could convert my van, load up myself, my stuff, and my Luna, and hit the road. Once I made the decision, the rest was easy.

I bought three guidebooks and enrolled in a Spanish language course. I bought a Spanish grammar book and three levels of the Pimsleur Spanish Language system, sitting down every night to work through a couple lessons then backing it up with my new grammar book. I had a fancy new futon made to fit perfectly in my Honda Odyssey. I went out as much as possible, saying goodbye to a lifetime of friends. I packed everything I thought I would need for my odyssey into my Odyssey and was all ready to hit the road.

But I had to wait, just a few more days. My all-time favorite band was returning to San Francisco. The first and last time I saw Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds live was 20 years earlier, the Henry’s Dream tour. I was blown away by the live show! Of course, I could delay my exit another week or so. My friend Gina Reid flew up from San Diego and we were joined by Maurice Tierney for an incredible front row seat (Gina is a punk rock girl and pushed us right to the stage!) to Mr. Cave followed by a bit more revelry at Miss Pearl’s Jam House at the Phoenix Hotel. It was beyond worth the delay!  Swoon…

My only regret is that I didn’t invest in a great 35mm camera. I filled my crappy iPhone 4 with a bunch of amazing photos that are all low quality.