It’s a rainy Thursday morning when I enter Houston White’s gallery on the lower level of Camdentown Flats in North Minneapolis. I’m greeted by the smooth, analog sounds of jazz music emanating from the record player on the opposite wall, near an archival collection of records and cassette tapes featuring names like Jimi Hendrix, Aretha Franklin, and Prince. In light of our impending interview, White—who is outfitted in a green argyle vest and oversize yellow-tinted frames—opts to switch on the overhead speakers, filling the silent spaces with the steady hum of Spotify’s John Coltrane playlist.
“I’ll turn it down, but I gotta have the music,” he says, with a laugh. “Stop the music, stop the meeting.”
White describes this cozy nook as his team’s “creative cultural space,” and it doesn’t take long for me to pick up on what is creatively and culturally important to him. Walls crowded with framed photos of family, friends, and historical figures; a coffee-table book on B.B. King’s life and career; mood boards, fabric samples, and building blueprints; striking mixed media and graffiti artworks—a personal museum of roots and heritage, art and culture, community and progression. It all culminates into a simple definition of what I would soon find to be White’s most ardent business philosophy: He holds the things he values close.
Photo by Chris McDuffie
If you haven’t heard the name Houston White, it’s likely you’ve encountered at least one product, building, or organization with his fingerprints on it. His ever-expanding portfolio of business ventures—united under the umbrella of Houston White Enterprises—includes everything from coffee beans and hair care products to an apartment complex, a strategic philanthropic arm, and a clothing brand sold at 600 Target locations nationwide.
The common thread that ties them all together? His resolve to ignite upward mobility and prosperity in Black communities—starting with the Camdentown neighborhood of Minneapolis (a title White coined in 2015, as a nod to the eponymous neighborhood in London), where a vibrant cultural corridor composed of White’s Fresh Barbershop, The Get Down Coffee Co., and Camdentown Flats is generating careers, affordable housing, and cultural meeting hubs for Black residents in a city that once ranked among the worst for Black Americans to live (according to a 2019 study conducted by 24/7 Wall St.). And with a queue of impending projects on the horizon (and a few additional real estate purchases on the block), it seems White is just getting started on his culture-making vision for Camdentown and beyond.
We caught up with White in late April to learn more about his rise from North Minneapolis barber to multi-hyphenate community builder, uncovering how an authentic, heart-led approach to business can plant the seeds for a cultural awakening.
Photo by Chris McDuffie
You often describe your work as a cultural movement. Can you tell me a bit more about what this means and how it has shaped your vision for community here in North Minneapolis?
Well, I’ve said this often—I want to do business like Aretha Franklin sings her song. And by that, I mean, you felt it. When you think about arguably the two most powerful all-American art forms ever created, jazz and hip-hop, how did those things get created? They got created because of the cultural experience, the soul, the pain, the struggle, the perspectives. For me, it’s that. I don’t want to make coffee unless it’s connected somehow to my story or my culture. I don’t want to do a building and make it look Norwegian just because that’s the way people are doing things. I don’t want to wear a blue blazer because that’s the outfit of businesspeople. I want to bend all of that, and make it swing.
What was it like for you growing up in North Minneapolis? How has that identity and upbringing influenced your approach to business and community?
What was it like? Here’s reality: 1980s, I lived on a block that had every socioeconomic background. We were solidly middle class, but I had friends that lived well below the poverty line. I also had friends that were a lot wealthier than us, and all parts in between. When I first moved here, I hated it, because I’m from Mississippi, and everybody was Black there. So that was complicated for me for a while. Socially, I had to mix my style with the style of, you know, my first best friend who was a white kid named Sage across the street, and they were hella different from us. My world started expanding, there were just so many different types of people and that, for me, was really the beauty in it.
What informed your earliest visions for today’s Camdentown? Did you see potential in the community that you hoped to tap into?
One of the things that was really an issue for me moving to Minnesota was the lack of strong Black community. The reality of my family was middle-class, and there were probably another one or two families like us, but pretty much everybody else that was Black was either broke, struggling, or had all kinds of difficulties. I remember thinking ‘Why don’t we have a really solid, successful, safe Black community?’ We used to go to Fuddruckers all the time when I was little, but we had to drive all the way out to Bloomington. Or if we were going to go to Chuck E. Cheese or the circus, it was all out of our neighborhood.
And so, when I got older, I became, quote-unquote, successful, and in order to live the life I wanted to live, I had to move to the suburbs. And that just didn’t feel right to me. I love New York. You know, why don’t we have brownstones and cool cultural areas that have all of these diverse people like they do there? For me, it was just a need, and so many other people felt the same way. So, I thought, ‘I either have to leave or I have to build it.’
Is that why you felt drawn to stay here instead of moving somewhere like New York?
Yeah, 100%. I think Minnesota is more interesting, as much as I love New York. You know, there’s a lot going on in New York City. I don’t particularly love Los Angeles, [or] Atlanta, which is supposed to be a Black mecca, Dallas—these places are hot. But if we could just figure out this cultural thing and really get it popping, we would be the envy of the nation. So honestly, it’s an ambition to improve, and I just think this place is a better place to lay a foundation.
Photo by Chris McDuffie
You’ve spoken about reimagining what prosperity looks like in Black communities. What are some tangible ways you’re trying to bring that to life through your work?
That’s a great question. None of this works if we don’t create autonomy and industry. You know, this is America. I am a conscientious capitalist. I like making money, but more than making money, I like bringing ideas to market and the dopamine release I get when people buy something that I just dreamt up—it could just be one—and that never gets old. It’s all about, how do we scale that, right? We have to make products that people want at scale, so that we can hire who we want and create influence in the community. If a school system is a problem, we just build a new one. If we don’t like the politicians, we’ve got enough money to influence them. If a neighborhood isn’t safe, we can hire an army. You know what I mean, solve our own problems. That, for me, is what it’s really all about.
Your ventures span industries. What’s the common thread that ties them all together?
I don’t do anything purely for money. I don’t do trends. I always want to be on time, but I never want to be trendy. I’m in pursuit of heritage, excellence, legacy. My principles guide my business decisions. I think that’s always at the heart of it, and that comes through for people who buy my products. Our ‘why’ has to be bigger than what we actually make.
What have been the most difficult and rewarding aspects of entrepreneurship for you?
For me, it was not being college educated or taking the traditional path to success. It’s not about racism, because classism is the worst ‘ism’ ever created. And there are people who look like me, who might assume I’m not as brilliant as I am because I didn’t go to school. Did Michael Jackson go to school? Who taught him? Or Hemingway? Who taught him how to write like that? I don’t believe in titles and giving people credit because they have a degree or not giving people credit because they didn’t even go to school. That has been one of the biggest things for me, just the limiting belief systems that most of us have. The most rewarding thing is, Frank [Sinatra] said it best: ‘I did it my way.’ I go to bed every night and sleep well because my conscience is clear. I don’t owe anybody s—. I haven’t taken advantage of anybody to get here, and I’m not willing to do anything that doesn’t align with my values.
Your involvement in fashion began with you selling T-shirts from your barbershop. Did you ever expect that to grow into your own clothing line?
When I was little, I had a vision that this would happen. I did, honestly. My mom was having me watch ‘Knots Landing’ and all these aristocratic, white sitcoms. And I was into it. I wanted to be J.R. [Ewing]. I kind of thought, maybe I’ve got something real big, maybe one day I will do something real big. I didn’t honestly say that I was going to turn screen printing T-shirts into a brand with Target; I’d never necessarily assumed that it would lead to that. But I did have an inclination, or a feeling, that if I could figure out how to connect the dots between the streets and aspiration, and then, ‘Sunday’s best,’ and that Midwestern kind of frugality, that it would swing.
Prince only could have come from Minnesota. So, I believe that the brand that represents the broad spectrum of Americana as it applies to hip-hop, Black life, and all of that, could have only come from a person who was born in the South, moved to Minnesota, and loved hip-hop. I started to understand that what was unique about what I could create was more about just how I had lived.
What role do you think style plays in community empowerment and self-expression?
Everything. I think style creates self-confidence and self-confidence exudes desirability. It’s a nonverbal form of communication. You can be broke as hell, but we always say, ‘It ain’t on you, it’s in you,’ and so you can make anything fresh.
Photo by Chris McDuffie
Who are some of your personal fashion icons or inspirations?
Well, it starts with my momma. My grandma used to make all of her clothes. I would even say my dad represents an archetype. When you look at Black men coming out of the late ’60s up through the ’80s, it’s just a rebellion. You know, it’s the goatees and the little afros and the way they wear pants a little high-waisted. There was a masculinity to it—shirt open, coat chains—those were my icons, the way they just owned that swag, man. Spike Lee, Jimi Hendrix, and then obviously Dapper Dan. Though I often get called the Dapper Dan in Minnesota, and I’m nothing like that.
Who are some of your business inspirations?
I really respect Nas even more than Jay-Z because Nas went broke, he was bankrupt, and he built a small fortune back by investing in businesses and being really savvy about what he was doing. I love that he bounced back from what he had gone through. And then, Jeff Bezos has a command and understanding. I just love the way he articulates, the way he looks at business. He asks the question, ‘People are always talking about what’s changing. I want my team to look at what is not going to change.’ And that is, people are always going to want a good deal. They’re always going to want to know how they can get it as fast as possible. And so, how do we build our business to make sure that we always deliver on the key things that aren’t ever going to change?
How do you hope to use the platform Target has given your brand to continue building your cultural movement?
I mean, think about Patagonia. People who buy into that brand buy into a movement. I hope that’s what happens as we continue to mature, that the story gets told: ‘The first thing that dude did when he signed the Target deal was buy real estate on the block.’ That’s just grounded, right? Target investing in me creating clothes ends up helping create stability in the community. You see job creation continue to happen as we get bigger. You see more and more people able to join the team, and then you see the story of heritage and Black life become more evergreen and less othered.
Amid the rollback of Target’s diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives, you shared online how the people at Target have really impacted your enterprise and community. Can you share more about your opinion on this?
Behind the bullseye, there are real people, and it was those people who saw me, invested in me, and realized they needed my perspective. I didn’t get to Target because of DEI, I got to Target because I was dope. I can’t defend or even take a particular stance. I respect the fact that some people feel alienated or not supported. But I know that many of the things I really wanted to accelerate over the last five years wouldn’t have gone as far without the relationships and the platform that Target has given me. I see the direct impact they’ve had on the Black community.
You are launching a new coffee liqueur in partnership with Brother Justus Whiskey called Black Cashmere, a crossover you described as ‘a cultural collision.’ Can you expand on what this means to you?
Minnesota is an [agricultural] state. If you drive 10 minutes in either direction, you’re in rural America. How do you play to both communities? How does culture collide? If you look at the front of the bottle, it says, ‘A soulful collaboration between Brother Justus and Houston.’ And it says, ‘North Minneapolis and North Minnesota.’ We’re using agricultural products and water from the state and inspirational design—the best of the different perspectives from Minnesota—to create a collision that I hope inspires across industries, because we need people working across difference.
If Brother Justus made a coffee liqueur on their own, it wouldn’t be Black Cashmere. It might taste the same, but it just shows the power of culture—it feels different. It hits different, right? And that is what I hope to inspire people with. If you want to make clothes, if you want to make schools better, if you want to make the Timberwolves experience not suck, you got to have cultural curators. That’s a real value to me.
Photo by Chris McDuffie
Your summer target collection is inspired by summer sports, which I can see in your outfit today. How have you been inspired by the crossover of fashion and sport?
Oh, man. Remember during the pandemic when people were wearing sweats all day, and apparel felt forever broken? It felt like, ‘How are we going to come back to the world once the world comes back?’ Well, it’s not the same. One of my early concepts was, I love the sweatshirt, but how do I take the sweatshirt and make a blazer? With sport being a big part of what I do every day—I like to play tennis, I play golf—I wanted to create something that I feel chill enough to play in, but still dope enough to go out in. I really wanted to build a brand that was high-style, high-comfort, and modular.
One of your nonprofit ventures, Sweet Renaissance, was created to train underrepresented communities in barista skills and coffee knowledge. Can you describe an impactful story or moment that you’ve encountered with this mission?
I think about Yadira, who was part of cohort one. Yadira is of Mexican heritage, and she’s created a brand (Ruda Coffee) that sources coffee from women-owned Mexican farms. She’s been able to launch that brand because of Sweet Renaissance. And now she is a residency roaster at our facility that we’ve set up. She is the perfect case study of the impact of Sweet Ren.
What’s next for you? Are there new dreams or projects on the horizon you’re excited about, or anything you can share the beginnings of?
We launched the philanthropic arm of [Houston White Enterprises] called the Mixtape Strategy, and we are working on the phase three aspect of Camdentown, which will be… well, think of it like this: You’re walking down the street in Harlem or Manhattan or Miami, and you walk past this vibey jazz fusion club, and you’re drawn in because it’s just a vibe. We are about to bring that to the block in the next six months. We’re also launching our Keurig cups at Target in August, and have recently launched them on Amazon, and it’s been really cool to bring the flavors of sweet potato cream and brown sugar banana to more people. Not another pumpkin spice latte, right?
