GIRL POWER: Latte Lounge's Zeda Riggs (above) and Koko Darling of Breakfast at Koko's (opposite) are two of a growing group of African-American women flexing their business muscle in Northern Liberties. : Michael T. Regan

Like so many neighborhoods that gentrify, Northern Liberties has seen fewer African-American residents in the last several years. But there is simultaneously a crop of African-American businesses that have or are planting roots in the area. Latte Lounge is one. Riggs opened the cafe doors seven years ago and has lived in the area for 30. Everyone within eyeshot of the cafe recognizes and greets Riggs, whose bespectacled face smiles frequently. "My customers have become extended family," she says, "and a lot of their children have grown up and, in turn, become customers."

Northern Liberties is a neighborhood evolving at warp speed. For years, the area has been thought of as an enclave for artists and working-class Latino and black families. The last few years have seen white hipsters and moneyed metropolitans make their homes next to mom-and-pop bodegas and day care centers. Likewise, young Latino working-class families find posh restaurants plopped in their midst.

Riggs is well aware that development is changing the face and the economics of the neighborhood; many of her customers took advantage of the rising property values, sold their homes and relocated. She sees the new faces as simply a different potpourri.

"Business is universal and coffee is a beverage people drink around the world," she says, "so in terms of being a cafe owner, I'm more interested in people who love a great cup of coffee or tea. Being an African-American business owner, you want a diverse clientele."

A fifth-generation entrepreneur, Riggs' parents bought a house in Northern Liberties in 1976, where they continue to reside. Her dad owned a barber shop in Old City for 20 years before retiring, while her mom has owned Tribal Home, a Third Street shop featuring imported African textiles and artifacts, for more than a dozen years.

When Riggs was growing up, the NoLibs business hub was Marshall Street. She remembers the movie theater, the butcher shop and children's clothing stores, when "there were far more kids in the neighborhood." Exposure to her parents' artsy friends, along with the espresso machine in their kitchen, is what nurtured the concept for Latte Lounge. So even after studying viola at Vanderbilt University in Tennessee, she left music behind to pursue the business.

Like Riggs, seven-year Northern Liberties resident Koko Darling has strong ties to the neighborhood. After her Center City hotspot Crimson Moon coffeehouse closed last summer as a result of rent hikes, Darling rethought the business plan. The result was the months-old Breakfast at Koko's at Seventh and Girard, walking distance from her residence. A highly unusual but jovial space-share, the new venture morphs from trendy breakfast/brunch nook by day to Chick-N-Fish neighborhood takeout joint by night.

Natives of Lebanon, Chick-N-Fish owner-brothers Mario and Fuad Dahan were Crimson Moon customers for years. When Fuad found out Darling was looking for a space, he suggested they share the Chick-N-Fish space. A born DIY-er, Darling was determined to create the Crimson synergy at Breakfast at Koko's. So she rolled up her sleeves and painted, installed latticework, and shopped around for the vintage retro decor.

Crimson loyalists approach her constantly about reopening the cafe, but after a decade of coffee, she was "ready to evolve, to try something new." During six grueling weeks of trial and error, she cooked sizeable batches of food until she got the recipes right. "My dad was a chef and I cook at home, but I learned that cooking large quantities is a whole different ballgame," chuckles Darling.

To reiterate a point she made in an earlier interview, the first thing Darling does is show me an ad in Essence magazine which reads, "He's a very articulate black man," with the word "black" crossed out. For Darling, this ad emphasizes an important point: African-American success should not surprise anyone. She hopes black-owned businesses will be viewed as simply part of the fabric of Northern Liberties — not singled out and separate. "Yes, being an African-American is great, being a woman is great, but I don't intend to separate myself [from other business owners]," she clarifies.

"There are all types of businesses opening in Northern Liberties, and it's everyone, including African-Americans," affirms Darling. "It's a prime business location right now. Our clienteles are a melting pot, so we're also quite integrated. It's a beautiful thing because it adds more depth to the city and changes the tone of what we typically know Philadelphia for." The "depth" Darling speaks of is obvious on any given morning at Breakfast at Koko's: White hipsters order fluffy omelets beside black bohemians.

Of the newer NoLibs entrepreneurs, two young women took advantage of the flexible lease length and reasonable rents at Liberties Walk, when Rittenhouse and Old City were too pricey: Norrinda Brown of Brown Betty Dessert Boutique and Cheree Atwood of Cheree Amour Shoes. Another young business owner, Samiyyah Staten of Spa East, relocated her business from South Street.

"The Walk," as it's often called, is a two-year-old development whose many lessees lucked out in that Tower Investments, which owns it, walked them through the rigors of opening a new business. Despite the help, little foot traffic on Liberties Walk, say Brown and Atwood, were a challenge for the first year, as still many people don't know it exists.

Liberties Walk represents an atypical social climate of the new NoLibs: Its business owners are both diverse and noncompetitive, in a neighborhood where business is becoming more competitive. The young entrepreneurs seem to thrive on helping each other and sharing ideas. "It's a nice network of young businesses to bounce stuff off of, with Art Star and the Pilates studio," says Brown Betty's Brown, a lawyer who was looking for a creative venture after college, with hopes she could include her mother in the plan.

An "upscale homestyle" bakery, Brown Betty's black-and-white family photos and decades-old furnishings create a boutique feel, but it's the recipes that rule here. Norrinda's mother and business partner, Linda Hinton Brown, a full-time teacher by day who bakes late into the evening, is tickled when customers send their desserts via FedEx, "as far as California to their friends. Then they come back and tell us the dessert made it there OK."

Norrinda continues to work out the kinks of the upscale/homestyle concept. "Carrots have to shredded. Raisins have to be soaked," she explains. "It's very labor intensive and the ingredients can be costly so we're still trying to figure out our place in the market."

One more mother-daughter partnership on Liberties Walk are Cheree Amour Shoes' co-owners Cheree Atwood and mom Yvette Atwood. Like Brown Betty's Linda Brown, Cheree is a full-time teacher who heads straight to her business after school each evening. The boutique specializes in designer brands like Donald Pliner, but set themselves apart in their market by working with a podiatrist to ensure the foot health of their clients, and by supporting local entrepreneurs — stocking products by jewelry and accessory designers, and filling their walls with art by local visual artists.

Cheree, whose lively voice matches the enthusiasm of her mother, is pleased that the neighborhood welcomes diversity, "which says a lot about where we've come. Right now black women just happen to be taking advantage of this market." The Walk was what Cheree calls the "best choice because Tower keeps it unique by not allowing chain stores — only specialty stores, so it's cool that we've been given the opportunity to do it."

Immediately next door to Cheree Amour on the Walk sits Spa East. Aside from the cathartic flute and harp music on the speakers, the first thing you notice are its vast, exquisite mirrors. You then notice Samiyyah Staten, the spa owner, sitting at a wooden manicure station massaging a young woman's hand before polishing her nails.

A soft-spoken twentysomething with short, cropped hair, Staten also comes from entrepreneurial roots: Her father owned a shop in Philadelphia International Airport, where she worked for several years before pursuing cosmetology. After working for a local salon, she started Spa East on South Street in 1994. But the digs were cramped — a one-room space — and the spa's location within a larger wellness center didn't provide enough street visibility. Above all, however, Staten recalls, "It was the parking that really did us in." So she was ecstatic about the move to Liberties Walk. It not only gave her the opportunity to mold the bare, two-floor space with her aesthetic vision, but also, "People in the area are just friendly, down-to-earth and family oriented."

If these NoLibs ladies have business longevity, they could inspire more African-American entrepreneurs to locate to an area that is gentrifying, serving as proof that development needn't necessarily misplace minority-run businesses. So for now, their presence will challenge the notion that African-Americans don't seize advantage of business opportunity as eagerly as others might. In a neighborhood defined by rapid change, "You have to wait until it slows down to see what's going on," suggests Riggs.

The move to Northern Liberties for these handful of entrepreneurs is, says Staten, "not what some would call a trend so much as that, as a community, we're just wanting more for ourselves."