Among the 80 or so customers crammed into Bare Escentuals, it'seasy to spot Leslie Blodgett. It's not merely her six-inch platformheels and bright magenta-and-blue dress that set her apart in theThousand Oaks (Calif.) mall boutique, but her confidence. To thewoman concerned she's too old for shimmery eye shadow, Blodgettswoops in and encourages her to wear whatever she wants. With adeft sweep of a brush, she demonstrates a new shade of blush onanother customer's cheek. And when she isn't helping anyone, shepivots on her heels for admirers gushing about her dress, made bythe breakout designer Erdem.

Blodgett, 49, has spent the past 18 years nurturing BareEscentuals from a startup into a global cosmetics empire. She soldthe company for $1.7 billion to Shiseido in March 2010but still pitches products in stores around the world and chatsincessantly with customers online. Scores of fans post dailymessages on Blodgett's Facebook page, confessing details abouttheir personal lives and offering opinions on her additive-freemakeup. She only wishes her 19-year-old son, Trent, were in touchwith her as frequently as he is with her husband, Keith. In 1995,at 38, Keith quit making television commercials to raise Trent,freeing up Leslie to build her business. She'd do it all again, butshe's jealous of her husband's relationship with her son. Trent, acollege sophomore, texts his father almost every day; he often goesa week without texting her.

“Once I knew my role was providing for the family, I took thatvery seriously. But there was envy knowing I wasn't there for ourson during the day,” says Blodgett. “Keith does everything athome—the cooking, repairs, finances, vacation planning—and I couldwork long hours and travel a lot, knowing he took such good care ofTrent. I love my work, but I would have liked to have a little morebalance or even understand what that means.”

Blodgett's lament is becoming more familiar as a generation offemale breadwinners look back on the sacrifices—some little, someprofound—required to have the careers they wanted. Like hundreds ofthousands of women who have advanced into management roles in thepast two decades—and, in particular, the hundreds who've becomesenior corporate officers—she figured out early what every man witha corner office has long known: To make it to the top, you need awife. If that wife happens to be a husband, and increasingly it is,so be it. Read the complete BusinessWeek article