Meet the Toronto women ditching corporate careers to drive sustainable fashion

Toronto’s sustainable fashion landscape is evolving fast and driven by women who are moving beyond secondhand shopping to create more intentional, community-focused experiences. Many are leaving corporate careers behind to focus full-time on how to reshape how people shop, dress, and connect with their clothes.

From vintage shop owners to personal stylists and content creators, we spoke with a few women who share a common belief: clothes should last, feel good, and carry meaning.

Sourcing with purpose

Rochelle Latinsky is the founder of My Clementine Vintage, a size- and gender-inclusive clothing store nestled in Little Portugal. After years in publishing and freelance digital strategy, she was driven by the lack of inclusive secondhand options in Toronto to launch her own vintage shop.

There’s a huge difference between a thrift store and a vintage shop, Latinsky explains.

“A thrift store is not curated. It might be organized by colour or size, but there’s a general set of price points. Clothes aren’t washed or mended; they’re sold as-is. It’s a bit of a free-for-all because most items are donated,” she tells blogTO.

Rochelle Latinsky of My Clementine Vintage. Photo courtesy Rochelle Latinsky. 

“A vintage store, on the other hand, is an experience. Everything I sell is washed, mended, and often altered. That’s what you’re paying for, a curated, intentional experience.”

Latinsky’s business grew slowly with closet cleanouts and pop-up sales. “It was a side hustle for the better part of a decade,” Latinsky says, as she balanced building her brand with corporate contracts and teaching in post-secondary education.

But losing her teaching job in early 2025 due to underfunding was, what she says, the universe telling her to do this full-time. 

Latinsky initially ran My Clementine Vintage by appointment only before taking “bigger and bigger risks” that led to showcasing the brand at the One of a Kind Show in December 2025.

Inside My Clementine Vintage. Photo courtesy Rochelle Latinsky. 

Today, My Clementine Vintage is known for its size-and-gender-inclusive approach, something Latinsky says is still rare in secondhand spaces. “Bodies aren’t wrong. Clothes are often just poorly made,” she affirms.

A major part of Latinsky’s day-to-day involves sourcing pieces for her shop. She upcycles from her own closet, sources items from friends and family that fit her niche, and even travels internationally to thrift stores. 

“Now this may not necessarily be sustainable in terms of a carbon footprint,” she admits, “but it is sustainable in the sense that I am taking clothes out of the landfill.” 

With intentionality as her guiding principle, Latinsky doesn’t encourage anyone to “buy something just because it fits.” Instead, she wants her clients to have fun with fashion — and when they feel stuck, that’s where she comes in.

Reviving everyday wardrobes

Leah Gust, a former Toronto resident now based in Durham Region with a background in film and television, is another figure helping people move beyond fashion ruts.

“I cut my teeth in film and television, and I really loved it,” she says. “I still love being on set, especially fashion sets. There’s just a different energy there.”

Leah Gust, personal stylist. Photo courtesy Peter Chatterton.

After years in the industry, Gust wanted to bring her wardrobe expertise to everyday people, focusing on refreshing existing clothing rather than buying new. She officially transitioned into personal styling full-time in 2024.

“Often, there are pieces still sitting in the closet with tags on them. I try to understand how those pieces ended up there and how — or if — they can be brought into everyday life,” she says.

Gust notes that attitudes toward thrifting have shifted in recent years.

“A few years ago, people wouldn’t openly talk about it. Now it’s different,” she says. attributing the change to growing conversations around fashion waste, overproduction, and the unsustainable pace of the industry.

“There was also the sheer pace of fashion — eight collections a year in high fashion at one point. It became unsustainable.”

Photo courtesy Peter Chatterton. 

For clients who feel intimidated by sustainable fashion, Gust emphasizes small, achievable steps.

“We don’t need a few people doing sustainability perfectly, we need many people doing it imperfectly,” she says. “If sustainability feels overwhelming, start with fabric. Look at the tag. Notice how it feels, how it breathes, how it wears.” 

Curating fashion content

While on the topic of women with impressive career changes, Sara Camposarcone, Toronto’s wardrobe stylist and self-proclaimed “sustainable maximalist,” also deserves a mention.

Known for her opulent fashion sense and frequent thrift store escapades in Toronto, Camposarcone’s journey into sustainable fashion began in high school, when thrifting became a way to stand out.

“I was tired of shopping for the same things as everyone else. This allowed me to truly find one-of-a-kind pieces,” she says. “I liked wearing things that had a history, or were handmade by someones great grandmother. To me, it gives the garment more meaning and sentimental value.”

Camposarcone’s background is in marketing and merchandising, with experience as a visual merchandising manager at Topshop and later as a marketing manager for a local brand.

After posting a GRWM (get ready with me) video on TikTok in 2020, her content blew up, leading her to transition into full-time content creation within months, with a strong focus on sustainability.

Camposarcone views sustainable fashion as creative and expansive.

“That means not only shopping vintage, but also shopping small ethical brands, upcycling garments, swapping clothes with friends, even shopping your own closet,” she says.  

Like Gust, Camposarcone has also noticed a shift in consumer expectations.

“People want to shop sustainably now more than ever, and supporting brands that align with our moral and ethical views is a priority,” she signs off.

Whether through a thoughtfully curated vintage store, personal styling, or content-driven fashion, these women show that sustainable fashion isn’t about perfection but about intention and connection to the clothing we choose to wear.