Month: September 2025

• Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams is recruiting franchisees for the first time, the company said.
• The brand is looking to open franchised scoop shops in the Midwest and the Southeast.
• The company has about 90 scoop shops around the US.

If you’ve ever wanted to run an ice cream shop, Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams has a proposition for you.

The ice cream brand plans to recruit franchisees for the first time, the company told Business Insider.

Jeni’s will be looking for franchisees starting this fall to open stores in Southeastern and Midwestern states — both regions where the brand has already built a network of company-operated locations, said Sean Bock, senior advisor of franchising at Jeni’s.

While Jeni’s doesn’t have a set number of franchisees that it’s looking for, Bock said that the company is looking to “go overboard” in supporting its first six to eight franchisees before it considers a broader rollout of the model.

“We want to take a methodical approach” that emphasizes “quality over quantity,” Bock told Business Insider.

Bock said that Jeni’s is looking for people who have previous experience running franchises. “They know how to operate a food business,” he said.

Other franchisees could include fans of Jeni’s who are looking to make a career pivot, he said. “There’s going to be a small percentage who’s going through life right now and saying, ‘I want a change,'” he said.

Franchising is one strategy that has allowed some of the world’s biggest restaurant chains, from McDonald’s to Starbucks, to grow their businesses.

For prospective franchisees, the model represents a fast track to business ownership. Restaurant chains provide their franchisees with an already-developed brand name, menu, and set of policies. In exchange, franchisees typically pay fees, such as one-time licensing payments or shares of the sales that their locations generate, to the company.

Opening a scoop shop under the Jeni’s name will require a total investment of between $696,000 and $1,265,750, according to a draft of the company’s franchise disclosure document. In 2024, the average annual net sales from a Jeni’s shop were $997,027.

Jeni’s operates about 90 company-run scoop shops. It sees franchising as a part of its path to long-term growth, but making that number as big as possible as fast as possible isn’t the goal of finding franchisees, interim CEO Poe Timmons said.

The company wants franchisees to align with values such as being inclusive and connecting with the community. Many of Jeni’s current shops, for instance, host fundraisers for local community organizations, she said.

Since Jeni Britton founded the company in 2002, the brand has worked with suppliers, such as dairy farmers, who abide by its “fellowship model,” which requires fair labor practices and environmental sustainability, among other criteria. “We believe it takes a community to create exceptional ice cream,” the company says on its website.

The company thinks about franchising the same way, Timmons said.

“Franchising has been a part of our long-range growth plan for almost ever,” Timmons said.

Bock said that Jeni’s wants its franchised stores to be run as well as its current company-owned locations.

“We want our customers to walk into any Jeni’s and not say, ‘Oh, this is a franchise, or this is a company-owned store,'” Bock said.

• Henley Carr shifted her priority from career to motherhood after having her first child.
• Carr’s early career was driven by male validation and a desire to climb the corporate ladder.
• She now seeks flexible work to balance family life, valuing motherhood over career success.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Henley Carr, a 28-year-old advertising professional based in Charleston, South Carolina. It’s been edited for length and clarity.

I girl-bossed way too hard.

Early in my career, I tied my identity to my salary, job title, and “achiever mindset,” largely driven by the validation from powerful male colleagues. I saw myself as different, and at times better, than other women, a feeling I’ve come to realize I was wrong about.

I worked my way up to a director of digital marketing position with a six-figure salary and became the primary breadwinner in my marriage, all while maintaining the goal of climbing the corporate ladder as far as I possibly could.

Since becoming a mother this year, my priorities have completely shifted, and I don’t see work as my purpose the way I used to. It’s been a liberating change, but I’ve had to grieve the “girlboss” I once was.

My girlboss origin started from a need for male validation

When I got hired for an early-career marketing job as the only woman on my team, I saw it as an achievement that set me apart from other women. The validation I received from powerful men at work made me feel special, so I quickly made it my goal to prove myself to the men around me.

I overworked myself to the point of burnout and made it my purpose to climb the corporate ladder.

I had a deep inner knowing that I wanted children, but I pushed that feeling away because I saw motherhood as a resignation from my success and identity. I think I adopted this narrative because of pressure to be what I thought was a “good feminist,” which meant putting my energy toward achieving success, chasing ambitions, and “having it all.” My interpretation of modern feminism never felt like a warm invitation to motherhood.

Having a miscarriage put everything into perspective

In 2024, when I ended up pregnant and later had a miscarriage, my world was shaken, and I realized just how important having children was to me. Even being on the precipice of becoming a mom was more fulfilling than any of my career successes.

My mom, seeing me through this time of struggle, encouraged me to write down a list of what fulfills me and what my dream life looks like. When I looked at the list I had written, I saw that none of it reflected the life I was leading.

Though it was hard to admit, I was certain that I wanted my legacy to be motherhood, not my capacity to rot away in a corporate office. I decided to continue working my job while my husband and I tried for a baby, and I got pregnant.

While it was everything I’d been praying for, I was terrified to tell my employer and potentially face judgment. When I finally did tell them, it was a surprisingly quick and easy conversation.

My workload stayed the same, but my eyes were on the prize of having my baby, which unintentionally caused me to shift my focus away from the girlboss grind.

I hope not to be the breadwinner in my future

I’m about halfway through maternity leave with my new baby, and I’m struggling with the idea of leaving him to go back to work.

I’m being confronted with the fact that my 5-day in-person work environment is not conducive to spending precious time with my baby and being there for his developmental milestones. As my family’s primary breadwinner, I’m planning on returning to work like normal, but I’m looking out for other job opportunities with more flexibility.

My husband is a commercial insurance broker who works on a commission-based basis; however, I hope for him to become the breadwinner moving forward.

I see this time as an opportunity to try something new because the idea that I need to get to the next level in my career no longer chains me down. Work now seems like a means to an end.

I grieve my old identity, but I’m so proud to be a mom

It’s not that money isn’t important to me anymore, but it’s more important for me to find a flexible job that potentially pays much less so that I can be at home with my baby. Still, these days, I feel awkward mentioning that I’m a mother, even though it’s the thing I’m most proud of.

It used to be easy for me to introduce myself to someone and proudly tell them my job title and the impressive accolades that come with it. Now, I find myself worrying about people’s judgment of me.

I wonder if people will roll their eyes at me or think that I threw away my career, just like I used to judge other people for. I’ve never felt more fulfilled than I have since becoming a mother, but I’m still grieving the “achiever” identity that I clung to for so many years.

I’ve finally stopped competing with other women and have a newfound respect for them

I’ve started being friends and communing with other women. Unlike before, I truly respect women who don’t know what they’re doing or what’s next. I think it’s more exciting.

No longer trying to be a girlboss brings a lot of freedom and liberation. Since putting down my girlboss title, I’ve been able to tap into my creative genius as a woman. The more I let go, the more the world becomes my oyster.

Are you a reforming girlboss and would like to share your story? If so, please reach out to the reporter at tmartinelli@businessinsider.com.