The Story
I never imagined that one day I would dedicate my life to telling the stories of a land I was not born in.
I grew up in Québec, surrounded by forests, lakes, and long winters where stories were passed from one generation to the next through music, folklore, and evenings gathered around the fire. Like many Québécois, I learned early that a nation's identity is preserved not only through its history books, but through the stories people continue to tell.
Years later, life brought me to Abu Dhabi.
What I expected to be another chapter in my career slowly became the place I would build my home, raise my family, and discover a culture unlike any I had ever encountered. Through my Emirati wife, our children, lifelong friendships, and the privilege of living in Abu Dhabi for many years, I found myself immersed in a heritage rich with generosity, resilience, poetry, craftsmanship, and remarkable oral traditions.
The more I learned, the more I became fascinated by the extraordinary folklore of the Emirates. Stories of Umm Duwais and Bu Daryah. Tales whispered beneath desert skies and shared in the majlis. Legends carried across pearl-diving journeys, through Bedouin camps, and from one generation to the next — not because they had been written, but because people chose to remember them.
I also came to understand the incredible work already being carried out by Emirati historians, storytellers, researchers, and cultural institutions to preserve this heritage. Their dedication has ensured that these traditions continue to thrive and remain an essential part of the nation's identity.
Yet I noticed something else.
For many of the millions of people who now call the Emirates home — including people like me — or for those fortunate enough to visit, these stories often remain just beyond reach. Language, format, or simple accessibility can make it difficult to discover the depth of the culture that surrounds them every day.
I saw an opportunity — not to replace or reinterpret the remarkable work already being done, but to complement it.
To create another doorway.
One that invites people from every background to discover the myths, folklore, poetry, landscapes, and cultural memory of Abu Dhabi and the Emirates through beautifully crafted books, art, apparel, maps, and collectible objects.
That idea became Empty Quarter.
Not simply as a brand.
But as a Cultural House of Abu Dhabi.
At the heart of Empty Quarter are our tale books. Every collection begins with a story. Every illustration, risograph print, garment, map, and collectible edition grows from those pages. We do not create products inspired by trends; we create vessels inspired by stories. Each edition exists to help carry heritage beyond the page and into everyday life, where it can be read, worn, displayed, shared, collected, and passed from one generation to the next.
Our commitment has always been simple.
To preserve, celebrate, and share the cultural memory of Abu Dhabi and the Emirates with authenticity, humility, and respect.
Every project begins with research. Every collaboration begins with listening. Every collection begins with meaning.
As an Abu Dhabi brand, our identity is inseparable from the Emirate that inspired it. That is why the historic Abu Dhabi flag forms part of our signature mark. It is not a decorative element; it is a tribute to the place whose history, values, and quiet confidence continue to inspire everything we create.
Our ambition is not simply to create beautiful books or exceptional apparel. It is to build a cultural house worthy of carrying Abu Dhabi's name — a place where stories, craftsmanship, art, and heritage come together with the same commitment to excellence that has long defined this remarkable Emirate.
Empty Quarter is also deeply personal.
It is my way of giving something meaningful back to the city, the people, and the culture that welcomed me and forever changed the course of my life.
As a Québécois who found a second home in Abu Dhabi, I have been fortunate to experience two cultures that both understand the importance of memory, storytelling, and identity. Today, my children belong to both worlds. They are proudly Québécois and proudly Emirati, and I want them to grow up knowing that heritage is not something we inherit by chance — it is something we choose to honour, protect, celebrate, and carry forward.
I hope that one day, when they look at Empty Quarter, they will see more than books, artworks, or garments. I hope they will see a reminder that meaningful ideas can bridge cultures, that entrepreneurship can become a force for preservation, and that with passion, humility, and perseverance, it is possible to build something that contributes to a culture with respect and purpose.
More than anything, I hope this project helps keep them connected to the remarkable heritage of the Emirates — the stories, traditions, landscapes, values, and quiet wisdom that now form part of who they are. I hope it reminds them that identity is something to be nurtured, celebrated, and shared, and that they will always have a responsibility to carry forward the cultures that shaped them.
If Empty Quarter inspires them to take pride in both sides of their identity, while encouraging others to discover and appreciate the extraordinary culture of Abu Dhabi and the Emirates, then it will have fulfilled its greatest purpose.
This is my way of saying thank you to the place my children will always call home.