From Storefronts to Startups: How Detroit’s Black Entrepreneurs Are Going Digital

Tucked between Grand River and Livernois, a new kind of hustle pulses through Detroit’s streets. The block still carries the spirit of Motown and the rhythm of barbershop talk, but now there’s a tech upgrade flowing right through the veins of the city’s Black-owned storefronts. Old cash registers have given way to card readers and contactless payments. Walk-ins now meet booking apps. And if you ask the right folks, they’ll tell you: survival means adaptation, but Black excellence means innovation.

These are not just Detroit businesses. These are cultural anchors, cornerstones of neighborhoods that have survived redlining, freeway displacement, and economic decline. But surviving the next chapter means something different. It means going digital without losing the soul.

Melissa Butler didn’t wait for the world to catch up to her vision. She built The Lip Bar out of frustration, tired of beauty standards that didn’t include women who looked like her. Born and raised in Detroit, she opened the brand’s flagship store downtown but quickly saw that a physical space could only do so much.

“Our community deserves access, regardless of where they live,” Butler said. “Technology gave us that.”

Through an online storefront, The Lip Bar now ships across the country, carrying shades designed for melanin-rich skin right to doorsteps that might otherwise never see a Black-owned beauty brand in their local mall. But this isn’t just about e-commerce—it’s about equity. It’s about owning the distribution channel and not waiting for retail chains to recognize the value of Black products.

Then there’s Ten Nail Bar, co-founded by Kelli Coleman and Anika Jackson, who saw a gap and filled it. A luxury nail bar for professionals who wanted more than the typical experience, but also one that moved with the times.

“Everything is digital now,” Jackson explained. “You book your seat. You pick your service. You’re on a schedule.”

Their business model blends the glam of self-care with the ease of automation. Clients book appointments online, eliminating wait times and paper sign-ins. That shift wasn’t just convenient. It helped Ten Nail Bar weather the pandemic’s unpredictable waves. While many brick-and-mortar businesses struggled to maintain clientele, Ten Nail Bar used tech to deepen relationships with existing customers and attract new ones who craved ease, safety, and structure.

But the journey hasn’t been smooth. Digital transformation isn’t just about software. It’s about mindset, access, and sometimes, resources that too often skip over Black communities.

“Black business owners are often the last to get capital,” Butler added. “We have to be twice as creative to get the same tools.”

The Lip Bar’s tech stack—e-commerce, CRM platforms, digital marketing—is part of what helps them punch above their weight. But those tools cost. They require training. And they demand a level of bandwidth that not every entrepreneur has at the jump.

That’s where community and collaboration come into play. Detroit’s ecosystem of Black entrepreneurs has leaned on each other to learn the game behind the game. Workshops, peer-led digital marketing classes, and collective resource-sharing have kept many businesses afloat through unstable times.

Fixins Soul Kitchen, another rising star in Detroit’s Black food scene, found a digital lane that brought the soul to the screen. With dishes that honor Southern roots and an interior that salutes Black excellence from wall to plate, Fixins took another critical step—meeting customers where they are, digitally.

“Being on DoorDash opened us up to a whole new clientele,” a Fixins team member shared. “Folks who maybe hadn’t heard of us before saw us online, placed that first order, and now they’re regulars.”

That kind of visibility matters. Food has always been a connector in Black communities. But now, the connector includes a smartphone screen, a delivery app, and a strong social media presence.

None of this is accidental. These entrepreneurs are intentional about building scalable businesses. They’re not only serving the community—they’re teaching it. Every digital upgrade becomes a form of empowerment. Every download, a pathway to ownership.

But digital doesn’t erase the grit. Tech won’t replace foot traffic. And no algorithm can mimic the feeling of walking into a space that knows your name and your story. That’s the line Detroit’s Black entrepreneurs walk with grace, infusing tradition with transformation.

Even with gains, challenges remain. Gentrification, limited broadband in some neighborhoods, and underinvestment in Black-led business districts still weigh heavily. And digital tools are only as strong as the systems that support them.

Still, the push continues. These business owners aren’t just future-proofing. They’re rewriting the future altogether.

“This is about power,” Coleman said. “Owning our image, owning our infrastructure, and owning our destiny.”

Detroit’s Black business community has always been rich in creativity, but technology is providing new keys to unlock doors that used to be shut tight. The shift from storefront to startup isn’t erasing culture—it’s amplifying it.

From Butler’s vegan lipsticks to Coleman and Jackson’s polished precision, to Fixins’ digital reach for comfort food—this moment is defined by a new kind of renaissance. One rooted in Black brilliance, sharpened by resilience, and powered by innovation.

This is more than a pivot. It’s a cultural evolution—led by Detroit, built by us.

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