With a Made-in-Canada Mission and a Trend-Resistant Point of View, House Of Blanks Emerges as Our Nation’s New Fashion Champ
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In an algorithm-driven era—where design strategies are chosen to chase followers and fame—House Of Blanks stands apart as a fashion anomaly. While most hunt hype and trend cycles, this Canadian label moves quietly, doing its own thing and winning because of it. The Brampton, Ontario-based brand’s pieces are designed, produced, and finished locally—a radical stance in a fast fashion economy where thin margins can necessitate offshore manufacturing.
The brand’s origin story is as intergenerational as it gets. Amit Thakkar, co-owner of House Of Blanks and son of Nat Thakkar, founder of Roopa Knitting Mills, landed on the idea in 2008 after being confronted with a pile of premium fabric that Roopa’s usual clients—fashion industry heavyweights—had no use for. Rather than waste it, Amit turned the material into T-shirts and sweats under the House Of Blanks name. “It was the combination of right time, right place,” he says. When Amit started House Of Blanks, athleticwear was surging, and celebrity-backed ventures were reshaping the category: Heidi Klum with New Balance, Lindsay Lohan’s leggings line, followed later by Kate Hudson’s Fabletics and Beyoncé’s Ivy Park—brands centred on sport, sleep, and loungewear. Yet something was missing.
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“Canadians have always been obsessed with comfort but haven’t been able to always find pieces that were made in this country and that reflected them.” —Amit Thakkar, co-owner of House Of Blanks
What started as a practical solution evolved into a guiding principle: make it well, keep it local, and let the garment do the talking.
Responsibility and patriotism alone don’t explain the success of House Of Blanks. The brand has no logo, no bricks-and-mortar boutiques, no imposing lifestyle message, and no BS—elements the industry often treats as mandatory. By refusing an old playbook, House Of Blanks became a hit disturber in athleisure. “We’re not pretending to be something we’re not, and our customers aren’t either,” Amit says. “Some would call what we do a consequence of logo fatigue, but we just want people to be able to wear one of our hoodies 15 years from now and think it still looks perfect.”
That philosophy centres on 100 per cent cotton garments with no outward visual allegiance to class, tribe, or mindset: “making a really high-quality piece of clothing that doesn’t scream ‘logos’ but rather ‘I’m really well-made,’” Amit explains. Without heavy-handed identifiers, wearers shape their own narrative. “It’s less about being Dior or Nike or whatever and more about you, who you are,” he adds. Even Earth-friendly methods are communicated with restraint: “Even just a sustainability story can be told with a lack of branding. You might love it this year but next year not relate to a logo anymore.”




As many luxury and fast fashion labels can attest, athleisure’s ascent didn’t stall once lockdowns lifted—it accelerated. What began as functional attire for Zoom meetings evolved into a permanent wardrobe vocab throughout the 2020s, as luxury houses absorbed sport codes into their core identities. Louis Vuitton fused performance with polish through sneaker-driven collections and Pharrell-designed varsity jackets and tracksuits, while Gucci and Balenciaga reframed hoodies and gym-ready knits as statement pieces rather than off-duty staples. Taking cues from brands like Virgil Abloh’s Off-White, high-fashion houses such as Armani, Bottega Veneta, and Loewe started to run to relaxed silhouettes and fabric innovation, signalling a pivot away from rigidity toward mobility and sporty ease. This wasn’t comfort as a trend—it was a recalibration of how people live, move, and dress. Against that backdrop, House Of Blanks didn’t chase relevance—it cleverly pronounced a new reality in a fresh way.
More than simply having a moment, Amit was of the moment, his rise shaped by a deeply personal and generational connection to clothing. His father immigrated to Montreal from Gujarat, India, a region long associated with cotton, dyeing, and diamond polishing, in 1972. Although Nat Thakkar was not directly part of those traditional trades, he found work in Montreal’s fabric factories and established Roopa Knitting Mills before moving to Brampton in 2001.
Seven years later, House Of Blanks emerged, bringing the entire journey from concept to hanger under one roof. “It’s important to employ people locally and highlight what can be done here,” Amit says. “It’s not just about making clothes. It’s about making authentic clothes that honour craft and Canadian talent.”
That commitment to people and process naturally extends into the brand’s stripped-back aesthetic. Minimalism isn’t an affectation here—it’s a byproduct of growing up inside the work. Amit and creative director Bobby McGurk came of age wearing sweats, fleeces, and hoodies tied to artists who shaped culture long before they shaped brands. Music was an early blueprint for both Amit and McGurk, with Wu-Tang Clan’s sharp ’90s silhouettes, Nas’s looks in “If I Ruled the World,” and the visual language of the New York hip-hop scene—from The Notorious B.I.G. to Mary J. Blige—foreshadowing a future rooted in timelessness rather than flash.
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The House Of Blanks philosophy centres on 100 per cent cotton garments with no outward visual allegiance to class, tribe, or mindset: “making clothing that doesn’t scream ‘logos’ but rather ‘I’m really well-made,’ ” Amit Thakkar says of his family business.
McGurk also points to athletic archetypes, both human and material as a part of HOB’s fuel. “Muhammad Ali, Steve McQueen, vintage cotton football sweatshirts were really big for us,” he says. “We like looking back to classic sweats, identifying what was a classic staple back then.”
The brand’s colour story is similarly trend-agnostic. Proven hues serve as foundations, and they are mixed in with modern palettes that hint at the zeitgeist without mirroring it. Navy, grey, and black anchor the lineup, while unexpected shades rotate through. Dusty rose was popular from 2020 to 2023, but this year’s colours are a borderline fluorescent yellow, an eggplant, and slate blue.
“We are constantly experimenting,” Amit says. Future releases extend beyond colour into material innovation: recycled cotton and BCI blends, thermal-lined wool hoodies, and Supima cotton tees. Amit’s sourcing philosophy pushes back against the industry’s reliance on plastic-heavy garments. “The proliferation of polyester clothing has to stop,” he explains, providing an ethical answer (it’s hard to recycle and sheds microplastic) and then a technical one, citing studies showing that natural fibres like wool are “better performing than a lot of synthetics.”
Fit follows the same logic. Cut-wise, House Of Blanks offers an expanded repertoire that curtails the yoyo sizing currently dominating the runway—whether due to dadbod cuts, normcore silhouettes, or the widespread use of Ozempic, which Forbes recently reported is transforming global sizing charts. Oversized or tailored, classic or relaxed, the decision stays personal. “We’re leaving trends up to the person. It’s about longevity and choice.”
Rather than fictionalizing some kind of corporate cool, House Of Blanks takes a more considered route. Its Makers Series (a digital spotlight of creators north of the 49th parallel) celebrates craft, culture, and self-directed excellence. The roster includes National Ballet of Canada principal dancer Heather Ogden, painter Janna Watson, Top Chef winner Coulson Armstrong, furniture designer Jamie Wolfond, and coffee impresario Sam James—featured not as models or faces but for their practices. McGurk says the casting criterion is simple. “It doesn’t matter how big or small of a fan base or follower count you have. It’s a passion for craft.”
Looking ahead, Amit says innovation—not influencers—continues to drive House Of Blank’s vision. He points to recent developments in fabric technology, from evolving materials to garments whose shades and hues can change with a simple tap on a smartphone app. “Seeing what’s possible in fabric, fit, and colour is how we push ourselves creatively and technically every day,” he says. “Being the manufacturer and the designer gives you such an upper hand. You can experiment without red tape and use all the new insights you see and infuse them into the things you make.” Ultimately, Amit believes the future of the industry lies closer to home. “Highlighting what is being made where you’re at is the most interesting way for our industry to move forward.”
Photographs by Johnny Tang, courtesy of House of Blanks.




