When I think back to the early days of building Mararamiro, it still surprises me that the photography studio came first. The dream had always been the shop, a place to gather beautiful, meaningful objects, but the timing never lined up the way I imagined it would.
Five years ago, everything felt uncertain. My career was shifting, I was craving something more creative, and the thought of signing a retail lease during COVID closures felt both brave and slightly unhinged. With storefronts closed across Toronto, opening a shop just wasn’t possible.
So I did the only thing that made sense at the time: I built a photography studio.
Not the future I had pictured, but a bridge toward it.
A Practical Beginning That Became Something More
The studio started as a practical solution: a place to photograph products, pack orders, meet clients, and work on the early pieces I was designing. It quickly grew into something else entirely: a shoppable studio and the first of its kind in Canada, though I didn’t set out to create a new concept. It simply evolved that way.
Over the years, the studio became a creative home for so many others, too.
Small businesses launching their first collections.
Photographers building portfolios.
Families capturing milestones.
Several weddings.
A few TV productions.
I didn’t realize how much those moments meant to me until I began preparing to step away.
Why Now Is the Right Time
On December 1, the photography studio will officially be passed on to its new owner, a transition that feels both bittersweet and deeply right.
The Dundas West shop turned two in October, and this is where my heart and energy are now. It’s the space I want to keep building for my family and for my daughter, who was just a few months old when I signed the lease. She sat on my lap while I replied to emails, napped beside me in a bouncer, and greeted customers long before she could walk.
The studio supported that entire chapter.
It quietly gave me the freedom, confidence, and stability I needed to finally open the shop, the dream I had carried for years.
Letting it go brings sadness, yes, but also gratitude.
Looking Ahead, Gratefully
Letting go of the studio feels bittersweet, but mostly it feels right. It had its chapter, and it shaped mine.
As it moves into new hands, I’m grateful for the role it played, and excited to pour my energy into the shop that grew from it. If you find yourself on Dundas West, feel free to stop in. I’ll be here, building what comes next.
