08/07/2026
Walk around almost any older industrial pocket in the GTHA and you’ll see opportunities everywhere: beautiful brick-and-beam buildings, warehouses, and underused commercial assets awaiting their next chapter.
The standard adaptive reuse playbook is pretty simple: gut the interior, build out generic units, put up a “For Lease” sign, and pray the right tenants come along.
In today’s market, that “build it and they will come” model feels a bit broken. It’s expensive, risky, and too often leaves landlords trying to force businesses into spaces that were never really designed around how they operate.
I spend a lot of time studying how other categories solve problems, build desire, and create cultural relevance because the smartest ideas often cross lanes. One model I’ve been noticing more in luxury and fashion is co-creation, and I wanted to explore it as a different approach.
Take Heaven Mayhem, the L.A. accessories brand, which brought independent creators into the process to co-create its Office Essentials collection, contributing to naming, direction, and the collection before launch.
Adaptive reuse has its own version of the same problem: spaces designed to fit a footprint, with tenants treated as something to secure after the fact.
What would happen if more developers brought future retailers, operators, wellness, hospitality, and F&B concepts to the table before plans were fully locked?
Not to hand over the vision, but to help inform it: what spaces they need, what adjacencies strengthen the mix, and how a more deliberate mix of businesses could turn a commercial asset into a destination people want to return to.
That idea feels especially relevant when you look at the commercial spaces people want to spend time in.
The Camp in Costa Mesa didn’t become a destination because it was designed like a conventional retail plaza. It became one because it curated a specific mix of wellness, retail, and food concepts with a clear point of view and a real sense of community.
Closer to home, Hamilton’s Cotton Factory has that same pull. It’s an eclectic mix of makers, studios, events, retail, and local businesses that gives people a reason to wander, discover, and linger. The magic isn’t just that it’s an old textile mill. It’s that it feels like a place with a pulse.
Neither example is a literal blueprint for co-creation, and I realize the economics, leasing strategy, and timing are more complicated than that. But they do show what happens when commercial spaces stop being treated like generic boxes to fill and start being designed more like destinations.
That’s the opportunity I keep thinking about.
Not just how to bring an old building back to life, but how to create its next chapter more intelligently by involving the businesses and operators who could help co-author it.
Because maybe the goal isn’t just to fill units after the renovation is done. Maybe it’s to invite the right people to sit at the table from the beginning and build the destination together.