Corporate negligence in the supply chain—specifically regarding industrial accidents and logistics failures—carries significant legal exposure. When a brand pushes a vendor to meet impossible deadlines, and that pressure leads to a catastrophic warehouse collapse or a fatal trucking accident, the veil of “independent contracting” is becoming easier for plaintiffs to pierce.

The High Cost of Speed: Industrial Accidents

The garment industry has a documented history of industrial tragedy. While the 2013 Rana Plaza collapse remains the most cited example of supply chain failure, smaller-scale industrial accidents occur daily. These incidents are often the direct result of negligence rooted in the demand for rapid retail turnaround.

When brands demand high volumes at low costs, manufacturers often cut corners on facility maintenance, fire safety, and structural integrity. From a legal perspective, the argument for “vicarious liability” or “negligent entrustment” is gaining traction. If a brand knows—or should have known—that a supplier operates in a dangerous environment but continues to place orders to maintain inventory flow, the brand can be held accountable for resulting injuries.

According to a Human Rights Watch report on apparel supply chains, the lack of transparency and pressure to meet “short-lead times” are primary drivers of workplace safety violations. This data suggests that the business model itself may constitute negligence if it predictably leads to unsafe working conditions.

Logistics and the Danger on the Road

The risk does not end at the factory gates. The “last mile” and the heavy hauling required to transport products from ports to distribution centers introduce significant vehicular liability. To keep shelves stocked, logistics providers often push drivers to exceed hours-of-service regulations.

Commercial trucking accidents involving fashion freight are a growing area of concern. When a tractor-trailer hauling thousands of units of apparel is involved in a collision due to driver fatigue or improper vehicle maintenance, the legal discovery process often looks upward. Lawyers look for evidence that the shipping contract or the brand’s delivery requirements made it impossible for the driver to operate safely.

Litigating these cases requires a deep understanding of how corporate pressure translates into physical danger. For instance, San Antonio SuperLawyers Paula Wyatt has spent years handling complex cases involving catastrophic injuries and trucking accidents. Her work highlights how failures in corporate oversight and the need for efficiency can lead to life-altering consequences. In the context of fashion, this means a brand’s logistics strategy must be vetted by legal teams to ensure that “efficiency” does not become a synonym for “negligence” in court.

The Doctrine of Duty of Care

A central pillar of negligence claims is the “duty of care.” Historically, fashion brands insulated themselves from liability by using layers of middlemen and third-party vendors. However, modern courts and new legislative frameworks are changing the landscape.

The EU Corporate Sustainability Due Diligence Directive is a prime example of this shift. It requires large companies to identify and prevent human rights and environmental issues in their operations and across their value chains. Failure to comply does not just result in fines; it provides a statutory basis for negligence claims.

If a company does not perform due diligence on a warehouse’s racking safety or a trucking fleet’s safety record, they are breaching a growing standard of care. Legal counsel must move beyond simple “code of conduct” forms and move toward active verification.

Hidden Liabilities in Tier 2 and Tier 3 Suppliers

Most fashion brands have a handle on their Tier 1 suppliers—the factories they contract with directly. The true legal danger lies in Tier 2 (fabric mills) and Tier 3 (raw material providers) levels. Subcontracting is rampant in fast fashion. When a Tier 1 factory is overwhelmed by a large order, it may farm out work to “shadow factories” that operate entirely outside of safety regulations.

If an industrial fire occurs at an unauthorized subcontracting site, the brand’s name is still on the labels found in the rubble. From a legal standpoint, the defense of “we didn’t know they were working there” is failing. Plaintiffs argue that the brand’s own ordering patterns made subcontracting inevitable, thereby creating a foreseeable risk.

Objective studies show that transparency into safety drops significantly beyond the first tier of production. For a legal team, this lack of visibility is a ticking time bomb.

Protecting the Organization Through Compliance

To mitigate these risks, fashion companies must transform their compliance departments from “check-the-box” administrative roles into active risk-management units. This involves:

1. Strict Vendor Audits: Moving beyond announced audits to unannounced, third-party structural and safety inspections.
2. Logistics Vetting: Ensuring that transportation contracts include explicit language regarding adherence to safety laws and realistic delivery windows that do not encourage speeding or fatigue.
3. Whistleblower Channels: Providing workers at all levels of the supply chain a way to report safety violations without fear of losing the brand’s business.
4. Contractual Indemnification: While not a total shield, robust indemnification clauses can help distribute the financial burden of litigation, provided the vendor has the insurance coverage to back it up.

The goal is to produce a paper trail of proactive safety enforcement. In a negligence lawsuit, the best defense is to prove that the company took affirmative steps to prevent the accident.

Beyond the Bottom Line: A New Standard for Fashion Oversight

The period of turning a blind eye to the mechanics of the supply chain is over. As litigation surrounding corporate negligence expands, the fashion industry must recognize that the speed of the runway cannot outpace the safety of workers or drivers.

When a company prioritizes rapid turnaround over the physical safety of those who move its products, it is not just making a business decision; it is accepting a legal gamble. By enforcing strict compliance and acknowledging the risks present in every mile of the journey, fashion executives can protect both their people and their organizations from the devastating fallout of supply chain failure. The true cost of a garment is measured not just in its price tag, but in the safety of the network that brought it to market.

The post Corporate Negligence and the Legal Risks Within the Global Fashion Supply Chain appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

She wore it like it didn’t matter.

A narrow strip of tortoiseshell, perched on top of a crown of blonde hair.

A simple Charles Wahba headband, purchased quietly from C.O. Bigelow in Manhattan’s Greenwich Village, which opened as a true apothecary in 1838.

Now, decades later, there are lines outside C.O. Bigelow again.

Thanks to Ryan Murphy’s ‘Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette’, flocks of women are queuing up outside C.O. Bigelow to buy the headband in an effort to “get the CBK look.”

But the truth is, they can’t.

Because what made the headband iconic was not the object itself, but what it carried with it – an association with a specific woman, in a specific time in 90s New York.

Nineties minimalism was not so much a trend, so much as a way of moving through the world. In every photograph the paparazzi managed to steal of Carolyn – whether she was walking her dog, doing cartwheels at the Kennedy compound, or stepping into a gala in one of her Yohji Yamamoto dresses – there was a kind of authenticity that could not be manufactured.

She looked real. Lived in. And her clothes felt like an extension of a life already in motion, rather than something assembled for the masses.

The irony of modern style culture is that, for all its talk about individuality, it is built on replication.

“Steal her look.” “Build her wardrobe.” “How to dress like Carolyn.”

There is now an entire ecosystem dedicated to Carolyn Bessette – curated Pinterest boards and Instagram accounts cataloguing every coat, every skirt, every pair of sunglasses she wore, as though proximity to the object might offer proximity to the woman herself.

What these tributes often pay little regard to is the girl behind the clothes.

Who was the girl behind the tortoiseshell headband?

Carolyn Bessette grew up in sleepy suburban Connecticut, the daughter of a public school teacher. She studied education at Boston University.

Her entry into fashion was nothing out of the ordinary. She started on the shop floor at Calvin Klein in Boston. It was on the shop floor that she began to develop the sense of style that she would later be known for.

She moved into public relations, eventually climbing the ranks to become a senior publicist at Calvin Klein in the 1990s, at a time when the United States had entered into an economic recession and the bold, shoulder-padded excess of the 80s suddenly felt too loud.

Calvin Klein was quietly setting the visual language of modern minimalism. As Lisa Marsh, author of The House of Klein: Fashion, Controversy, and a Business Obsession, says, “Calvin Klein’s era of minimalism was a sign of the times. History remembers this era as one that is an antidote to ’80s maximalism. No one will ever don a simple slip dress without, consciously or unconsciously, saying a little thank you to Calvin Klein.”

In that context, the headband made sense. Simple, yet practical.

Now, search for “tortoiseshell headband” online, and thousands of results appear. But what is being traded is not the headband itself. It is the association with Carolyn’s style.

Which begs the question: how far does the law go in protecting personal style, and more importantly, taste?

Where the law draws the line: why personal style resists ownership

In the eyes of the law, a tortoiseshell headband is unremarkable.

A tortoiseshell headband sits almost entirely outside the boundaries of intellectual property law protection in Australia.

It is unlikely to attract meaningful copyright protection. Copyright law in Australia protects original works of expression, not ideas, not style, and not functional objects as such.

For protection to arise, there must be an original artistic work that reflects independent intellectual effort. A tortoiseshell headband, as a mass-produced, functional accessory, does not readily meet that description. There is no identifiable artistic expression in the object itself that copyright is designed to protect.

It is neither new nor distinctive, and therefore unlikely to satisfy the threshold for registrability under the Designs Act 2003 (Cth) (Designs Act).

Under the Designs Act, a design must be “new and distinctive” to be registrable. A design is distinctive if it is not substantially similar in overall impression to any prior design (the “prior art base”), as judged through the eyes of the informed user. An “informed user” sits between a casual consumer and a design expert.

Viewed through that lens, a tortoiseshell headband is unlikely to meet the threshold. The form is already well established: a slim, curved band, worn pushed back from the face, typically in acetate or plastic. These features dominate the overall impression and have existed in the prior art base for decades. Any variations in tone, finish or thickness are minor and do not meaningfully alter that impression.

And so, dupes circulate freely. Near-identical versions are produced across price points, from fast fashion to boutique labels.

The question, then, shifts to the consumer. What protects them from ordering what they think is a piece of fashion history and instead receiving a plastic torture device?

Under the Australian Consumer Law (ACL), a seller must not engage in conduct that is misleading or deceptive, or likely to be misleading or deceptive. Nor can they make false or misleading representations as to origin, endorsement or authenticity.

The prohibition applies even if there was no intention to mislead or deceive. A seller cannot suggest that a product is the same item worn by Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy, nor imply any form of affiliation that does not exist.

A seller may trade on aesthetic resemblance, but not on false provenance. It may say “in the style of”, but not “as worn by”. But it cannot assert a history it cannot prove. It can invite comparison, so long as it stops short of making a claim it cannot substantiate.

So why then do we still want to buy it?

While Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy’s headband was never distinctive in design, it was distinctive in context.

And so, you can purchase the headband, wear the black turtleneck sweater and don the mid-calf Prada boots.

But, despite the insistence of fashion magazines and TikTok creators, you cannot “steal her look”.

What you cannot acquire is the thing that made it so coveted in the first place: her taste.

Taste, in this sense, remains entirely unprotected. And entirely out of reach.

Screenshot That is a series by Chloe Mo that explores iconic fashion pieces from film, television and cultural history that live rent-freee in your mind long after the scene ends, and unpacks each item’s cultural significance and the legal issues that sit behind it.

The post On Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy & Identity: The Girl Behind the Tortoiseshell Headband appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

The Depop Deal: Why eBay Went All-In on Secondhand Cool

eBay, the auction house grandpa of e-commerce, just dropped $1.2 billion cash for Depop- a mobile-first app that’s basically an Instagram-laced thrift store. Depop’s stats show 7 million active buyers and 3 million sellers, with 90% under 34 (primarily Gen Z and young Millennials). Its U.S. GMV neared $1 billion in 2025, up 60% year-over-year. So why pay a premium? Because consumer wallets are voting with their feet (or thumbs in this instance) toward resale.

Fast fashion is losing its grip, and we can clearly see that with new green regulations, sustainability-focused fashion laws, etc. Post-pandemic, Gen Z paused impulse-buying Shein hauls. Instead, they’re hunting Depop for vintage Levi’s or indie streetwear that screams “me.” eBay’s fashion GMV already tops $10 billion annually (growing 10% YoY), but Depop injects fresh blood, sort of proving that the shift to circular spending is mainstream. Maybe eBay is admitting that people spend where value meets vibe?

Decoding Gen Z Wallets: The Real Why Behind the Resale Obsession

Let’s talk consumer behaviour 101: Depop users aren’t casual browsers. They log in daily, flipping pre-loved gems for profit, clout, and conscience. 39% of young shoppers hit social commerce for secondhand last year, per reports, drawn by affordability (items under $50 dominate), uniqueness (no duplicates in your feed), and eco-brags (“I saved a tee from landfill”). I can personally attest to the same, noting that my Screen Time on Vinted averaged 19 hours per week. 

And marketing’s cracked the code: TikTok lives and Insta Reels turn hauls into social proof. Gen Z spends 2x more time (and cash) on resale than legacy sites, prioritising self-expression over status logos. This comes after a shift in consumer behaviour following the slow death of micro-trends. People want to be more authentic instead of chasing every small trend that will cause a dent in their wallet. Compared to eBay’s older crowd chasing deals on toasters, this demo is fashion-forward, sustainability-savvy, and fickle. And the acquisition is hard evidence that spending habits are pivoting. Resale’s hitting $53.7 billion globally by 2026, growing 11% CAGR. People aren’t necessarily cutting back, but priorities have shifted in a world where inflation rises more than our jeans, so people are redirecting dollars smarter.

Culture Clash Incoming: Can eBay Keep the Gen Z Magic Alive?

Depop’s sauce was the social-first feeds, seller follows, and community chats. eBay’s a powerhouse, but it feels like a digital flea market. Post-deal, eBay vows to run Depop as a standalone brand, adding shipping perks and Authenticity Guarantees, which is smart since Gen Z loyalty hinges on feeling seen, not sold. But if you botch the culture? I guarantee users will bolt to Vinted or Poshmark.

From a consumer lens, this tests behavioural glue: People spend where they belong. Marketing that force-feeds corporate polish kills it (incoming rant on IRL marketing and influencer fatigue). 72% say secondhand stigma’s gone, but vibe dilution revives it. And eBay’s challenge is to prove they get the social job-to-be-done: not just transact, but participate in trend ecosystems.

Recommerce Battlefield: Depop’s Secret Weapons in the Mix

Resale’s on fire, projected to hit a massive $367 billion by 2029, growing twice as fast as the whole apparel world. You’ve got ThredUp, Poshmark, and The RealReal scrapping for every sale, but Depop? It’s got this killer Gen Z edge with its streetwear obsession and creator collabs, and now paired with eBay’s global muscle, they’re building a total powerhouse. The roadmap’s stacked: AI-powered recs that nail your style, cross-listings to flood more eyes, and influencer drops that’ll have everyone buzzing.

And the real proof is in how we’re shopping. Nearly 60% of folks are already planning secondhand splurges this year, chasing those affordable gems, the thrill of the treasure hunt, and that feel-good planet-saving vibe. Heck, even Boomers are jumping in. This deal just shines a spotlight on the big spending shift: with 38% of us tightening belts amid economic pinches, resale’s the ultimate hack: stylish, budget-smart, and zero guilt. Platforms that mix that social discovery magic with rock-solid trust in authenticity? They’re the winners. eBay’s move says it: consumers are all-in on brands riding this circular wave.

eBay’s Full Gen Z Playbook: Depop’s Just the Opener

This grabs the headlines, sure, but eBay’s not stopping at Depop. They’re stacking the deck with a whole playbook to win over Gen Z. Think anti-counterfeit AI that sniffs out fakes before they hit your feed, super-personalised recommendations that feel like they read your mind, and cosying up to influencers who actually get the vibe.

And honestly, it makes total sense. Consumers are done with knockoffs; surveys show 69% of us will ghost a site the second we spot something shady. Throw in those slick TikTok glow-ups to amp up the fun factor and sustainability badges that let you flex your eco-cred without even trying.

Depop just proves the whole thesis: spending’s evolved into this perfect mix of social buzz, planet-friendly choices, and straight-up savvy moves. And fast fashion? That’s so yesterday’s news; it’s out, and this circular wave is where the real party’s at.

The post eBay’s Depop Acquisition: A Smart Move or a Desperate Grasp for Gen Z? appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

This is the first investigation of its kind by a European regulator. It will not be the last.

What actually happened

The Autorità Garante della Concorrenza e del Mercato, Italy’s competition and market authority, did not send a letter. It sent investigators. Officials from the AGCM, along with officers from Italy’s financial police, the Guardia di Finanza, physically inspected the premises of Sephora Italia, LVMH Profumi e Cosmetici Italia, and LVMH Italia on Thursday, March 26. The Friday announcement followed those raids.

The AGCM said the investigations centre on possible unfair commercial practices linked to the premature use of adult cosmetics by children and adolescents, including those under 10 to 12 years old, encouraged through the compulsive purchase of face masks, serums and anti-ageing creams. It specifically flagged the use of “very young micro-influencers” as part of what it called a “particularly insidious marketing strategy.”

LVMH confirmed in a statement that Sephora, Benefit, and LVMH P&C Italy had been notified of the proceedings. The group said all three companies affirm “strict compliance with applicable Italian regulations” and that they will fully cooperate. Beyond that, it declined to comment.

What “cosmeticorexia” actually means

The AGCM used a specific clinical term in its statement: cosmeticorexia. It describes an unhealthy, compulsive fixation on skincare among minors, a condition now documented in peer-reviewed medical literature and increasingly flagged by dermatologists treating children presenting with skin damage from products they should never have been using.

A 2025 study published in the Journal of Drugs in Dermatology specifically examined the Sephora Kids phenomenon and found that key ingredients common in the products children are purchasing, including retinol, exfoliating acids like AHAs and BHAs, and high-concentration vitamin C formulations, have not been tested on children and can cause real harm. Rashes, allergic reactions, dermatitis, heightened sun sensitivity, and in some cases lasting skin damage are the documented outcomes when children apply adult-grade actives to skin that has no business being treated with anti-ageing chemistry.

Skincare routine videos posted by teenagers on TikTok contain an average of 11 irritating ingredients. Those are not random products the children found. They are products that brands sold to them, or allowed influencers to sell on their behalf, without clear warnings that children should not be using them.

The Sephora Kids machine

To understand the investigation you have to understand the trend it is targeting. Sephora became the physical and symbolic home of Gen Alpha beauty consumption in a way that no brand strategy quite planned for and no brand did very much to slow down.

Sephora has more than 20 million Instagram followers and 2.1 million on TikTok. Its stores became a destination for children, some under ten, filling baskets with Drunk Elephant, Glow Recipe, and Sephora Collection serums while filming “Sephora kids haul” and “Get Ready With Me” videos for social media. Parents complained. Dermatologists warned. Nielsen data shows Gen Alpha households now spend billions annually on skincare and makeup. The industry took note of that spending and did not noticeably slow it down.

In 2024, Sephora North America’s CEO Artemis Patrick said in an interview that “we do not market to this audience.” The Italian investigation essentially challenges that claim directly. The AGCM is not asking whether the brand passively allowed children to shop in its stores. It is asking whether the brand actively marketed to them, used young influencers to reach them, and failed to warn them that products were not intended for minors.

Those are three separate and serious allegations.

What the legal exposure looks like

Italy’s AGCM has the authority to impose substantial fines for unfair commercial practices. Under Italian consumer protection law, aligned with the EU Unfair Commercial Practices Directive, brands can face penalties into the millions of euros if investigations conclude they misled vulnerable consumers, and children are explicitly recognised as a particularly vulnerable category.

The investigation is also notable because it sits at the intersection of two different legal frameworks. One is consumer protection, specifically the obligation to accurately label and communicate product warnings, including who a product is and is not suitable for. The other is advertising law, specifically the rules around marketing to minors through influencer content that is not clearly labelled as commercial or that targets an audience that legally cannot give meaningful commercial consent.

Italy’s AGCM called this a first for European regulators. The European Union has been tightening digital marketing rules for years. The EU Digital Services Act requires additional protections for minors on major platforms. The EU’s Cosmetics Regulation sets out labelling standards. The question Italy is now asking is whether Sephora and Benefit met those standards when their products were being actively marketed to under-12s through covert influencer channels.

Other European regulators are watching this case. If AGCM finds in favour of the investigation and issues fines, expect similar proceedings in France, Germany, and Spain before the year is out.

The broader industry problem

Sephora and Benefit are not the only names that should be paying attention to this investigation. The Sephora Kids trend was powered by brands that sold products knowing children were buying them, platforms that served children the content, and influencers, many of them children themselves, who promoted adult skincare routines to audiences of peers and younger kids.

The regulatory response is still catching up. California’s proposed AB 2491, which would have restricted the sale of anti-ageing products to children under 18, was killed in committee partly because of lobbying by the skincare and retail industry, which argued social media, not the products, was the problem. That argument is becoming harder to sustain when Italy’s financial police are walking through a brand’s offices with a list of specific marketing practices they consider unlawful.

For LVMH, the timing is not ideal. The group is already managing significant brand complexity in 2026, from Saks Global’s bankruptcy affecting luxury retail in the US to the broader luxury slowdown compounded by Middle East war uncertainty. An investigation into the ethics of marketing cosmetics to children adds reputational weight to an already difficult year.

For the beauty industry more broadly, this is a question that will not stay in Italy. The “Sephora Kids” phenomenon is global. The regulation is only beginning. 

The post Italian Regulators Raided LVMH Over Sephora Kids. Here Is What That Actually Means appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

In the infamous Bollywood Film “Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara”, a memorable scene depicting the purchase of a Hermès Kelly bag worth around 12,000 Euros (in 2011) was meant to showcase the extravagance and lifestyle of high-earning individuals. 

However, today, the same bag in the secondary luxury market can command a price of up to $25,000–$35,000+ USD. With Luxury handbags showing ~13% annual growth in the Knight Frank Luxury Investment Index, it raises a curious question in this context: can a handbag function as a financial asset?

Luxury handbags, particularly the ones produced by Hermès, such as the Hermès Birkin bag and Hermès Bag, have increasingly been discussed not merely as accessories but also as alternative investments. Over the past few decades, these luxury goods have displayed price appreciation patterns contrasting with traditional asset classes such as Gold and Equities. At this crossroad of luxury fashion, economics and law lies an intriguing phenomenon where consumption, status and investment come together at play.

Luxury Handbags as an Alternative Investment

Investors conventionally allocate wealth across stocks, bonds, commodities and other traditional modes. However, alongside these types of investments, there has also been a rise of alternative investments, including art, wine, and Luxury Handbags. Multiple financial analyses indicate that the Birkin bags delivered an average annual return of approximately 14% between 1980 and 2015, marking it an outperformer to many traditional investment instruments in the same period, including the S&P 500 Index. 

Furthermore, luxury handbags are a recognised instrument in the global luxury ecosystem, especially for investment. The Knight Frank Luxury Investment Index tracks the performance of collectables such as classic cars, wine and handbags, highlighting the growing financial relevance of such goods. The strongest performers in this index have often been Handbags. 

This phenomenon is often considered to be driven by the thriving secondary market for luxury fashion. These luxury handbags transform into tradeable assets through auction houses and resale platforms. Institutions such as Sotheby’s and Christie’s regularly host handbag auctions where rare Hermès pieces can sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Even online luxury resale platforms like Vestiaire Collective and Rebag have further democratized access to this market.

In some cases, rare models like the limited-edition Birkins or Mini Kelly bags appreciate sporadically, sometimes achieving price increases exceeding 92 percent in the resale market. As a result, luxury handbags increasingly occupy a space at the intersection of fashion consumption and financial speculation. 

The concept of Scarcity and Veblen Goods

The remarkable performance of select luxury handbags can be explained through the economic theory of Veblen Goods – a category of goods where demand is directly proportional to price, as a higher price signals both exclusivity and status. Unlike most fashion brands that aim for maximal sales and distribution, Hermès strictly limits the production of its most desirable handbags. This cultivated scarcity is a deliberate business strategy. Each Kelly is handcrafted by a single artisan, a process that can take up to numerous manual hours. This meticulously designed production method inherently restricts supply.

Moreover, Hermès maintains a tight grasp over distribution channels. For example, you can not simply walk into their store and make a purchase; rather, these bags are generally offered only to select clients who already have a built relationship with the said brand. 

From the outlook of finance, scarcity and prestige create a powerful combination that supports price appreciation in the long term. Thereby, it’s considered that Hermès does not merely sell handbags but also status and desirability embedded into a tangible good.

Distribution control in Fashion Law

The legal framework governing the distribution of luxury goods comprises various pillars. One commonly used strategy in this aspect is selective distribution, which allows companies to ensure that certain standards regarding pricing and store presentation are maintained. Hermès has created an environment where access to its most coveted products is restricted to prevent overexposure and discounting. However, with this strategy, certain questions surrounding the legality of this approach are also raised. With many consumers alleging Hermès of practising the concept of ‘pre-spending” 

From the perspective of fashion law, these practices raise concerns surrounding tying arrangements. Tying arrangement refers to when the sale of one product is directly or indirectly dependent on the purchase of another. Under the antitrust law framework of various jurisdictions, tying agreements may be scrutinised if the company possesses significant market power and/or if such a practice restricts consumer choice. 

Whether this approach constitutes an unlawful tying arrangement still remains debated. With supporters terming it “a relationship-based retail experience’ and critics terming it “anti-competitive conduct”.

The Potential Risk of Fashion as an Investment

While analysing the impressive performance of some luxury handbags, financial experts argue against regarding fashion goods as traditional investments. When compared to stocks and index funds, luxury items lack standardised pricing mechanisms and also depend on subjective factors such as condition, accessibility and consumer preferences. These risks include, but are not limited to: Volatility of Resale Market, Dependence on Fashion trends, havoc of storage and maintenance to preserve value. 

Liquidity is another challenge in this aspect, where stocks can be sold with ease in public markets, but at the same time, luxury handbags require auctions or resale platforms, again adding to time and transaction fees. Therefore, luxury handbags occupy the category- part lifestyle purchase and part speculative asset.

Conclusion 

The rise of luxury handbags as financial assets reveals a unique convergence of fashion, economics and law. Hermès Birkin and Kelly bags are products that depict how brand identity, controlled identity and symbolism can transform an accessory into a highly sought-after investment accessory.

Yet this phenomenon raises questions about value and whether these handbags are truly financial assets or are they mere sophisticated expressions of status enforced by careful legal and economic positioning.

The answer lies somewhere in the middle, wherein luxury handbags blend financial potential with artistry and prestige; while some cherish their status, others find comfort in simple investments.

The post Birkinonomics: How Fashion Became an Asset Class appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

That is what gives the case its edge. This is not only a fight over whether certain items should have appeared on SHEIN. It’s also a fight over how Selena’s estate can enforce rights it says are still active and protectable. For a company like SHEIN, the issue may look operational: listings, sellers, takedowns, and notices. For Selena’s estate, this issue is broader and more long-term. From its point of view, this is about protecting the licensed use of an image that still carries enormous cultural and commercial value. 

What Selena’s Estate is Arguing 

The complaint raises several claims, but the basic argument is simple. The estate says Selena-related merchandise was presented in a way that could lead consumers to think it was official or connected to Selena’s estate when it was not. Public trademark records also support the estate’s position that it owns and manages those rights. That is where the trademark infringement and false designation of origin claims come in. The estate is arguing that Selena’s name, image, and related branding were used in a way that could suggest an endorsement or affiliation. A consumer doesn’t need to know about trademarks or trademark law for that to matter. The estate is arguing that the way the product was presented could lead people to think it came from or was approved by Selena’s estate.

One of the claims made is for dilution, but not whether shoppers are confused right away. Instead, it’s about whether repeated unauthorized use of their mark can weaken the power of a famous name over time. In fashion, this matters because a name like Selena does not just identify a person, but style, memory, and cultural meaning. If that name keeps showing up on merchandise without approval, the estate can argue that the name loses some of its distinctiveness. Brand owners worry about that kind of erosion because, if a mark is not protected carefully, it can become weaker over time. In extreme cases, a name can even lose trademark protection altogether if it becomes generic (“aspirin” is the classic example in the U.S.). Even though dilution and genericide are not the same thing, both ideas show why owners try to stop repeated unauthorized use before the name loses value. 

The publicity rights claim may be the most important part of the case. California law protects a deceased person’s name, voice, signature, photograph, and likeness from unauthorized commercial use. That means this lawsuit is not just about a word or image on a product label. It’s also about whether Selena’s image and identity are still legally protected after her death. Public trademark records help support that position. USPTO records show the SELENA mark is live and registered, with Q Productions LLC listed as the current owner, including for Class 25 apparel goods. Separate USPTO assignment records show an ownership transfer, first from Selena’s father to Suzette Quintanilla and then to Q Productions LLC. That gives the estate a stronger footing when it says Selena’s name and image are still being actively managed, licensed, and protected; not treated as open for anyone to use.

The Seller, The Platform, or Both?

One interesting part of the lawsuit is that it does not appear to be built around a one-time incident. The estate is trying to show a pattern. Exhibit A to the complaint includes a cease-and-desist letter and screenshots showing Selena-related search results and listings on the SHEIN platform. The estate is not only saying that Selena merchandise appeared on SHEIN. It is also saying SHEIN was allegedly put on notice, yet the listings still remained. That matters because, once a platform has been warned, the focus shifts. The question is no longer just what was on the site, but what happened after the warning was given.

SHEIN has reportedly said that the merchandise was sold on their platform by third-party sellers, but that it was removed once flagged, and that they have launched an investigation. That may be part of SHEIN’s defense, but it does not completely settle the issue. The seller may have posted the item, but the platform still gives it visibility. It helps shoppers find the listing, and it benefits when people click and buy. That’s why the case matters beyond Selena merchandise. It gets at a bigger issue in fashion e-commerce: how much distance can a platform really claim when it profits from the demand generated by those listings? 

In fast fashion, speed changes everything. Products can appear quickly, spread quickly, and get bought quickly. By the time someone objects, the listing may already have done its job: being viewed, shared, or sold. That is part of what makes cases like this so important. They force courts to think about how much responsibility a platform should bear in a system built for speed.

Why Selena Makes This Different 

Selena remains one of the most influential Latina artists in music and popular culture, and her connection to fashion has always been part of that story. The GRAMMY Museum says her influence on music, fashion, and culture still inspires generations, and its current exhibit points out that Selena designed many of her own stage costumes. The Smithsonian has also recognized Selena’s cultural impact. They have continued to preserve her legacy, treating Selena as a living cultural force, not just a figure from the past. Describing her as the “Queen of Tejano Music,” the Smithsonian presents Selena as someone whose story and music continue to reach new generations today. That helps explain why her estate is treating this case seriously. Selena’s name and image still mean something to people, and that gives them commercial value. From the estate’s point of view, this is about protecting an image that is still very much alive in fashion, music, and community memory.

As the case moves forward, readers should watch how SHEIN responds, whether it continues to push liability onto third-party sellers, and how the court handles the estate’s trademark and publicity rights claims. For now, the lawsuit is already doing something important; it’s putting pressure on a broader question in fashion e-commerce: how much responsibility a platform should bear when protected names and images appear in online listings.  

Sources:

1. People, “Late Singer Selena Quintanilla’s Sister Sues Shein Over Clothing Line.”
2. Q Productions, Inc. et al. v. SHEIN Distribution Corporation et al., No. 2:26-cv-02588 (C.D. Cal.), case page and filings, accessed via PACERMonitor.
3. Q Productions, Inc. et al. v. SHEIN Distribution Corporation et al., No. 2:26-cv-02588 (C.D. Cal.), docket, accessed via Justia.
4. Lanham Act / 15 U.S.C. § 1125
5. USPTO Trademark Search, SELENA word mark, Reg. No. 5522456
6. USPTO Assignment Center records for the SELENA mark
7. California Civil Code § 3344.1 (post-mortem rights of publicity)
8. kiitv.com, “No results for ‘Selena’ on SHEIN after lawsuit filed by Q Productions.”
9. Remezcla, “SHEIN Removes All Selena Quintanilla Merch on Website – Here’s Why.”
10. GRAMMY Museum, “GRAMMY Museum Announces ‘Selena: From Texas To The World’ Exhibit.”
11. Smithsonian National Museum of American History, Selena materials/press release.

Author: Karla Galiano Herrera

Karla Galiano Herrera is a second-year J.D. candidate at New York Law School with interests in intellectual property, fashion law, and the legal issues that shape brands, media, and creative industries. Her perspective is informed in part by her background in immigration advocacy, which continues to shape the way she thinks about identity, protection, and access. Outside of law school, she enjoys blogging, content creation, and following the trends, stories, and cultural conversations that shape fashion and media.

The post Q Productions v. SHEIN: Trademark and Publicity Rights in Fast Fashion appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

When I was a child, the word “presentable” was not a suggestion but a family law. My mother – an exacting woman who measured the world in who wore what and whether or not they looked good in it – insisted that we never left the house unless we looked our best. The result was a paradoxical upbringing: on one hand, I learned the grammar of a well‑tailored suit, the poetry of a perfectly coordinated accessorized outfit, and the confidence that comes from knowing you have earned visual respect. 

On the other hand, the same regimen taught me the freedom of being able to “slum” as effortlessly as I could appear on a runway. I could and did glide from a quiet country kitchen in a thrifted pair of jeans to a glittering beauty‑pageant stage in a one-of-a-kind evening gown (even making the local newspaper) without feeling the slightest dissonance.

Now, more than four decades later, I find myself watching the very same world that once cherished sartorial etiquette devolve into what feels like a collective amnesia about the power of dress. Pyjamas have become streetwear, far too “weighty” exposed midriffs are glorified as rebellion, and cut‑off shorts that barely cover the posterior are celebrated as avant‑garde. The notion that something as simple as a dress code could still hold relevance seems, to many, antiquated. 

Yet, I am convinced that fashion events—perhaps the only remaining sanctuaries for those of us who still believe that clothing can communicate intelligence, intention, and respect—must cling to their dress‑code traditions.

The Historical Weight of Dress Codes:

The concept of a dress code is not a modern invention; it is a centuries‑old social contract. In the courts of Versailles, the “sumptuary laws” dictated who could wear silk, gold, or fur, creating a visual hierarchy that reinforced order.

In Victorian England, the “three‑piece suit” became a symbol of propriety, allowing a man’s character to be read at a glance. 

Fast forward to the twentieth century, and the “black‑tie” dress code emerged as a dashing shorthand for ceremony, dignity, and shared cultural understanding. Each of these moments illustrates a fundamental truth: clothing is a language, and dress codes are the grammar that keeps that language intelligible.

Fashion shows, galas, and industry mixers have historically been the most conspicuous arenas where this grammar is both taught and tested. By requiring attendees to adhere to a prescribed aesthetic—whether it is “cocktail attire,” “business‑formal,” or a specific thematic palette—organizers signal that the event is a serious forum for dialogue, critique, and the celebration of craft. In doing so, they protect the space from becoming a chaotic free‑for‑all where the message of design gets lost in a sea of mismatched patterns and colors.

Why Dress Codes Matter in Fashion:

Respect for the Designers’ Vision

Designers spend months, sometimes years, curating a narrative through fabric, cut, and movement. When an audience arrives dressed in a way that deliberately clashes with the show’s aesthetic—think bright orange sneakers at a minimalist monochrome runway—it diminishes the immersive experience the designer intended. A dress code ensures that the audience’s attire functions as a neutral backdrop rather than a competing visual stimulus.

Professional Credibility

The fashion industry is still a business. Investors, editors, buyers, and media professionals use these events to make high‑stakes decisions. 

When a buyer or even guest attendee shows up in an ensemble that appears to have been salvaged from a local dumpster, he/she sends an unintentional signal: “I do not take this event, the market or the industry seriously.” 

A well‑curated look, on the other hand, conveys that the attendee respects the stakes, understands the industry’s standards, and is prepared to engage on equal footing.

Cultural Cohesion

Fashion, unlike many other arts, straddles the line between the personal and the public. A shared dress code creates a fleeting community—a tribe of people who, for a few hours, are united by a common visual vocabulary. That sense of belonging can spark authentic conversation, mentorship, and collaboration that would be harder to achieve in a setting where everyone is shouting their individuality through clashing patterns and “anything‑goes” wardrobes.

The “Anything‑Goes” Counterargument:

Critics of dress codes argue that they enforce conformity, suppress self‑expression, and perpetuate classist gatekeeping. They point to the democratizing power of streetwear, the rise of gender‑fluid fashion, and the historical role of dress codes in excluding marginalized groups. 

These concerns are not without merit. 

The fashion world has a well‑documented history of gatekeeping—whether it is the horrific treatment of models forced to starve themselves, to designers who fuel the realm nightmares hail from, by looking askance at anyone deemed “not worthy.”

However, there is a distinct difference between a systemic exclusionary practice and a contextual expectation of attire. A dress code applied to a fashion event is not a blanket rule for everyday life; it is a temporary, situational standard that serves a specific purpose: to preserve the integrity of the event’s artistic and commercial objectives. Moreover, contemporary dress codes can be crafted with inclusivity in mind—allowing for gender‑neutral options, accommodating traditional dress, and providing clear guidance that does not rely on vague or outdated gender binaries.

When a dress code is articulated transparently—e.g., “business‑casual with an emphasis on clean lines; shoes must be closed‑toe; no visible logos larger than 2 inches”—it becomes a tool for equality, not oppression. It levels the playing field by letting everyone know exactly what is expected, thereby removing the guesswork that can penalize those without insider knowledge of fashion etiquette.

The Real‑World Cost of Abandoning Dress Codes:

Consider the last major fashion weeks that abandoned any semblance of a dress code. Reports from industry insiders noted a marked increase in “distractions” during runway presentations: bright neon accessories that reflected onto the catwalk, oversized handbags that blocked sightlines, and footwear that clanged on the platform, disrupting the designers’ audio cues. More importantly, buyers and editors complained that the chaotic visual environment made it harder to assess the garments themselves, leading to delayed purchasing decisions and, in some cases, lost orders.

The ripple effect extended beyond the runway. Media coverage shifted from a focus on collection details to sensational headlines about “the most shocking outfits.” 

While clickbait may boost short‑term traffic, it dilutes the seriousness with which the collection is treated and ultimately harms the designers whose livelihoods depend on thoughtful critique.

A Pragmatic Path Forward:

If we accept that dress codes have a legitimate role, the next question is how to enforce them without alienating the very audience we hope to engage. Here are three practical steps that event organizers can adopt:

Publish a Clear, Accessible Dress‑Code Guide

A one‑page PDF circulated with the invitation, posted on the event website, and highlighted in registration emails eliminates ambiguity. Include visual examples (e.g., “appropriate: tailored blazer; inappropriate: hooded sweatshirt”) and note any allowances for cultural or religious attire.

Offer a “Dress‑Code Concierge”

For emerging designers, students, or professionals from non‑fashion backgrounds, a short consultation (in‑person or virtual) can help them interpret the guidelines and assemble a suitable outfit, perhaps even providing rental options for items they do not own.

Enforce at the Door, Not the Gate

Rather than policing guests with confrontational security, employ friendly “fashion stewards” who greet attendees, verify compliance, and, if necessary, suggest quick adjustments (e.g., swapping a T‑shirt for a provided polo). This approach maintains dignity while upholding standards.

Conclusion: A Call to Preserve the Sanctity of Fashion Venues:

The world may be shifting toward ever‑more casual norms, and that evolution is not inherently negative. Streetwear has birthed iconic designers, gender‑fluid fashion has expanded the visual lexicon, and the self-expression of style has brought fresh perspectives to the runway. Yet, just as we reserve quiet reverence for a symphony hall and demand silence in a library, we must preserve a space where the language of fashion is spoken with intentionality, respect, and collective understanding.

A dress code at fashion events is not a relic of aristocratic snobbery; it is a deliberate instrument that safeguards the seriousness of the industry, protects designers’ artistic visions, and fosters professional credibility. 

Abandoning it in the name of “come as you are” risks turning our most vital showcases into abysmal costume parties, eroding the very platform that elevates talent and drives commerce.

So, to the organizers, sponsors, and attendees who still cherish the transformative power of well‑chosen garments: please enforce, and continue to enforce, dress codes at fashion events. Let us keep at least one bastion where elegance, thoughtfulness, and a dash of disciplined flair remain the default, not the exception. 

In doing so, we honour not only the heritage of fashion but also its future—one where style still matters, and where what we wear continues to speak louder than words.

Author: Andrea Dean Van Scoyoc

Andrea Dean Van Scoyoc is a burgeoning force of nature in the influencer‑fashion‑marketing arena—a true alpha businesswoman who shatters conventions with unapologetic clarity. Her “no‑holds‑barred” approach translates into campaigns that cut through the noise, holding high-end brands accountable while honoring the trend-craving palate of today’s consumers.  Van Scoyoc’s straight‑talk perspective guarantees results that are as impactful as they are authentic.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hr42_consulting

The post Dress Code Debate: Should Fashion Events Still Have Them? appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

This comes as part of their second collab (yay!), showing that these two powerhouses are serious about making sustainability feel fresh, not just another buzzword we’re all getting tired of.

Cue Usher and let’s dive in!

H&M Stella McCartney Insights Board: Who’s On It and What’s the Vibe?

Let’s set the stage:

A room full of fresh perspectives: technologist Kiara Nirghin (sustainability innovator extraordinaire), model Amelia Gray, fashion editor Susie Lau (aka Susie Bubble), Gurls Talk founder Adwoa Aboah, and singer/activist Anitta, all chatting with Stella herself, H&M experts, and moderated by industry strategist Julie Gilhart.

It’s not your typical stuffy board meeting. And the goal? Curiosity, listening, and bold ideas to tackle fashion’s big challenges like innovative materials, animal welfare, and transparent comms. Their London kickoff zeroed in on how sustainability shows up online, influences shoppers, and needs fact‑based stories to cut through the noise.

Stella puts it perfectly: “Fashion has an opportunity to lead with honesty… keeping sustainability front and centre in a way that sparks real dialogue and hope for change.” H&M CEO Daniel Ervér adds they’re “excited to connect different voices” and explore what’s possible together.

Why This Matters: Customer Love for Sustainable Fashion Is Back (Sort Of…)

Here’s the tea: shoppers are craving real sustainability, but they’re tired of greenwashing. Consumers want brands to prove their eco creds, yet trust is low when it’s all vague claims. This board is H&M and Stella’s way of saying, “Let’s listen to Gen Z, creators, and experts to figure out what actually resonates.”

Think about it: Amelia Gray reps the next gen who grew up with TikTok trends and climate anxiety. Anitta brings global music vibes to show how culture shapes buying. Adwoa’s activism reminds us that fashion is a platform for change. It’s diverse AF, and that’s the magic.

First Meeting Highlights: Materials, Transparency, and No More Hype

At the London powwow, they dug into sustainable materials, circularity, innovation, and comms; agreeing that fact‑based, accessible info is key to rebuilding trust. No more “100% recycled” labels without proof. They want brands to show the data, tell the story simply, and link it to customer lives.

Kiara Nirghin shared: “Fashion is at a fascinating crossroads where science, innovation and creativity can come together to drive real change” Susie Lau wants sustainability “embedded in culture, not slogans.” Love that energy!

Insight: Boards like this could lead to tangible outcomes, such as H&M piloting new bio‑fabrics based on board ideas or Stella influencing supply chain shifts. It’s collaborative disruption at its best.

H&M and Stella McCartney Collab History: From Runway to Real Change

These two go way back. Their first drop in 2019 was a game‑changer: vegan leather, organic cotton, no fur/plastic. It sold out fast and proved green can be glamorous. Now, collab #2 brings this board to challenge norms and accelerate progress.

H&M’s pushing hard on circular goals (100% recycled/renewable by 2030), and Stella’s lifelong no‑cruelty stance makes them perfect partners.

Together, they’re proving fast fashion + luxury ethics = future‑proof business.

Fun Fact: Their past drops influenced millions (celeb fans like Dua Lipa rocking Stella x H&M). This board amps that up with Gen Z input.

Sustainable Fashion Trends 2026: What the Board Signals

Zoom out: sustainability fatigue is real, but 2026 is pivoting to “conscious cool”. Shoppers want:

• Transparency: Traceability apps, blockchain for fibres.

• Innovation: Mushroom leather, lab‑grown silk.

• Community: Co‑creation with users (hello, Insights Board!).

Insight: Fast fashion’s under fire (H&M’s no stranger), but moves like this show adaptation. Expect more boards blending insiders + outsiders. Data says 65% of Gen Z skips brands without clear green proof. Stella’s clout + H&M’s scale = massive ripple effect.

Pro tip for brands: Ditch jargon. Say “this tee saved 2,500L of water”, and shoppers automatically connect.

Challenges Ahead: Greenwashing, Supply Chains, and Customer Buy‑In

Let’s be real now. Fashion’s eco journey has bumps. Supply chain opacity hides dirty secrets, and “sustainable” claims often flop without proof. The board’s tackling this head‑on: animal welfare, material innovation, and customer‑facing stories that stick.

Anitta nailed it: “Fashion is a language that connects people all over the world, just like music.” Adwoa adds it’s about self‑expression with purpose.

Insight: Watch for regulatory push: EU’s Green Claims Directive fines greenwashing. H&M/Stella could lead voluntary standards, boosting trust and sales (sustainable lines grow 28% faster per McKinsey).

What’s Next for H&M Stella McCartney Insights Board?

They’re committed to outcomes + action steps, so next meets will hit circularity, innovation, and more. Expect reports, pilots, or collabs born here. H&M’s teasing “disrupt what’s possible”, so maybe bio‑dyes or resale tech?

Reader takeaway: Love sustainable fashion? Follow this board. They’re voicing what we all want: honest, fun, planet‑friendly style.

This launch feels like a breath of fresh air, and is actual proof that big brands are listening.

The post H&M and Stella McCartney Team Up for Sustainability Insights Board: Fresh Voices on Fashion’s Green Future appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

This case is not about identity. It is about entitlement to who gets to commercially own a name, and on what terms.

And in answering that question, the law delivered a quiet but powerful message: visibility is not a substitute for legal legitimacy.

Beyond the Obvious: Why This Case Resonates

At first glance, the outcome appears counterintuitive. How does a globally recognized artist whose name carries undeniable commercial magnetism fail to secure exclusive rights over that very name in a lucrative product category?

The answer lies in the structural integrity of trademark law. Unlike the fluid world of branding and consumer perception, trademark systems are deliberately rigid. They are designed not to reward fame, but to protect order in the marketplace.

In this case, that order was anchored in something deceptively simple:
a prior right, properly secured, in the relevant class of goods.

The Australian designer had done what the law expects of any brand owner; she adopted, used, and registered her mark in connection with clothing. The celebrity, despite her global reach, entered that commercial space later.

The law, in effect, asked a question stripped of glamour: Who was there first, and who secured their position?

The Fragility of Celebrity Brands

The modern celebrity brand is built on a powerful premise that identity itself can be commercialized across categories. Music becomes merchandise. Persona becomes product. Influence becomes inventory.

But this case exposes the fragility of that model when it encounters the formalities of intellectual property law.

Celebrity branding often operates on the assumption of seamless expansion:

• If a name is globally recognized, it can be extended into fashion, cosmetics, or lifestyle goods
• If consumers associate the name with a persona, legal protection will follow

This assumption is not entirely misplaced, but it is incomplete.

Trademark law does not ask whether a name is famous. It asks:

• Is it registered?
• Is it used in this class?
• Does someone else already hold rights here?

These questions may seem procedural, but they are determinative. And they reveal an uncomfortable truth for modern brand architecture: the stronger the brand in the cultural sense, the greater the risk of legal complacency.

A Case About Boundaries

At its core, this dispute is about boundaries between identity and property, between reputation and rights, between global presence and local protection.

Trademark law is territorial. It is also categorical. Rights are not universal abstractions; they are carefully demarcated entitlements.

The idea that a name can exist simultaneously as:

• A personal identity
• A global entertainment brand
• A registered trademark in a specific class

…creates inevitable friction.

What the court ultimately affirmed is that these layers do not automatically collapse into one another. A celebrity identity does not override a pre-existing commercial right simply because it is more visible.

Reframing “Confusion” in a Saturated Market

One of the more nuanced aspects of this case is the treatment of consumer confusion. Intuitively, one might assume that the overlap of identical or near-identical names in fashion would create confusion, particularly when one party is globally famous.

Yet, the legal threshold for confusion is not based on instinct. It is based on evidence, context, and market realities.

In a saturated, digitally mediated marketplace:

• Consumers are exposed to multiple brands with overlapping identities
• Purchasing decisions are influenced by channels, pricing, and positioning, not just names

The court’s reluctance to assume confusion reflects a broader shift in trademark analysis:
Consumers are not passive; they are discerning, and sometimes surprisingly so.

The Ethical Undercurrent: Power and Protection

There is also an ethical dimension to this dispute that deserves attention.

Trademark law, at its best, serves as an equaliser. It allows a small business, operating with limited resources, to assert rights against a far more powerful commercial entity, provided those rights are properly established.

In that sense, the outcome is not anti-celebrity. It is pro-system.

It reinforces the idea that:

• Legal rights are not hierarchical
• Economic power does not automatically translate into legal dominance

For the fashion industry, where independent designers often coexist uneasily with global brands, this is a significant signal.

Implications for the Fashion Industry

Fashion, perhaps more than any other sector, sits at the intersection of identity and commerce. Names, signatures, and personal narratives are not just branding tools; they are the very substance of the product.

This makes the industry uniquely vulnerable to:

• Overlapping identities
• Cross-border expansion conflicts
• Merchandise-driven disputes

The Perry case highlights the need for a more disciplined approach to brand expansion within fashion ecosystems:

• Designers must think beyond aesthetics and invest in an early trademark strategy
• Celebrity brands must treat fashion not as an extension, but as a legally distinct market entry
• Collaborations and licensing arrangements must be grounded in clear rights allocation

The Indian Perspective: Familiar Tensions, Different Outcomes?

For Indian practitioners, the case echoes familiar tensions.

Indian courts have, on multiple occasions, recognised the doctrine of trans-border reputation, allowing well-known international brands to assert rights even in the absence of extensive local use.

At the same time, Indian law places significant weight on prior use, often elevating it above registration.

Would a similar dispute play out differently in India? Possibly, but not predictably.

The outcome would hinge on:

• The strength of the celebrity’s spillover reputation in the specific product category
• The evidence of prior use by the local rights holder
• Whether the mark qualifies as “well-known” under Indian standards

What remains consistent, however, is the underlying tension:
The law must balance recognition with fairness, and influence with integrity.

From Trademark Dispute to Enforcement Narrative

Viewed in isolation, this case is a dispute over a name. Viewed in context, it is part of a larger enforcement narrative, one that is increasingly relevant in a world of globalised brands and decentralised marketplaces.

As brands expand, so do points of conflict:

• Counterfeiting networks exploit brand visibility without legal consequences.
• Marketplace platforms blur jurisdictional boundaries
• Licensing arrangements create fragmented ownership structures

Against this backdrop, the lesson from the Perry case is not merely about filing strategy. It is about building a culture of enforcement.

A brand is only as strong as its willingness and ability to defend itself.

Conclusion: Reclaiming Discipline in an Age of Visibility

The enduring value of this case lies not in its outcome, but in its restraint.

It reminds us that trademark law, despite operating in a world increasingly driven by perception and influence, remains anchored in structure, discipline, and proof.

For the fashion industry and for brand owners more broadly, the message is both simple and demanding:

A name may carry meaning.

But only a right secures it.

As the boundaries between identity and commerce grow more fluid, the need for rigorous, forward-looking trademark strategy becomes not just advisable, but indispensable.

Because in the end, the law does not ask who is better known.

It asks who is better prepared.

The post Katy Perry v Katie Perry: Rethinking Trademark Power in the Age of Celebrity Commerce appeared first on Fashion Law Journal.

Increasingly, however, it is also rhetoric.

In certain corners of the contemporary luxury market, diamonds are no longer sold solely as symbols of permanence. They are marketed as portable portfolios. Emeralds are not merely exquisite; they are “inflation-resistant.” Rare gemstones are positioned as “stores of value,” vault-kept and algorithmically tracked. What was once whispered in royal treasuries and whispered again in dowry negotiations is now stated in the confident vocabulary of finance. Jewelry, we are told, is an asset class.

This transformation from adornment to instrument demands legal scrutiny. At what point does a bracelet become a balance sheet entry? When does a gemstone cease to be merely decorative and begin to operate as a regulated security?

The answer lies not in carats or clarity, but in structure.

The Ancient Logic of Portable Wealth

To be clear, jewelry has always occupied an ambiguous space between beauty and banking. Gold bangles have long functioned as emergency liquidity in South Asian households. European monarchies mobilized gem-encrusted regalia to finance wars. In many cultures, bridal jewelry was as much financial insulation as it was ceremonial spectacle.

What is new is not the financial function of jewelry. What is new is its formalization.

Digital platforms now offer fractional ownership of rare diamonds. Investors purchase proportional interests in gemstones that are stored in insured vaults, professionally curated, and eventually resold. Blockchain-backed authentication systems record provenance and certify authenticity. Marketing language invokes diversification, scarcity, and long-term appreciation.

The jewel, in effect, is being securitized.

This shift inevitably triggers the most fundamental inquiry in financial regulation: whether the transaction constitutes an investment contract. In the United States, the analytical touchstone remains the test articulated by the Supreme Court of the United States in SEC v. W.J. Howey Co. Under the Howey framework, a scheme is deemed a security if it involves an investment of money in a common enterprise with an expectation of profits derived primarily from the efforts of others.

A diamond purchased for personal wear does not meet this threshold. A fractionalized diamond marketed as an appreciating investment vehicle, managed and resold by a centralized platform, very well might.

The distinction is neither semantic nor superficial. It is determinative.

Cut, Clarity, and the Howey Test

Consider the mechanics of fractional ownership of gemstones. An entity sources a high-value diamond, often emphasizing rarity and projected appreciation. It divides the economic interest into units. Investors contribute capital in exchange for fractional stakes. The diamond is retained in storage. The platform manages insurance, valuation, and eventual resale.

The investor does not polish, market, or negotiate. She waits.

Her expectation of profit is tethered to the platform’s managerial expertise. The enterprise pools capital. Each participant’s success is interdependent. These elements align uncomfortably well with securities doctrine.

The U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission has repeatedly emphasized that economic reality prevails over creative labeling. Calling an offering a “collectible opportunity” does not shield it from regulation if it functions as an investment contract. Substance governs form.

The Indian regulatory framework, overseen by the Securities and Exchange Board of India, adopts a similar substance-over-form approach when evaluating collective investment schemes. If funds are pooled, managed centrally, and marketed with an implicit or explicit promise of financial returns, regulatory oversight may follow.

This is not hostility toward innovation. It is fidelity to investor protection.

Securities law exists precisely to address asymmetry of information. The gemstone market, characterized by opacity in pricing and valuation variability, presents fertile ground for such asymmetry. Professional gemologists, auction houses, and vault custodians operate in a knowledge ecosystem that ordinary investors may not fully access. Regulation, in theory, intervenes to equalize that imbalance.

Tokenized, Not Timeless

Proponents of tokenized jewelry frequently invoke blockchain as a guarantor of transparency. Distributed ledgers can indeed enhance provenance tracking, reduce counterfeiting, and document the chain of custody. For luxury goods, where authenticity is currency, this technological layer offers real value.

Yet tokenization does more than authenticate. It fractionalizes and, in doing so, creates the perception of liquidity.

Digital tokens tied to gemstones may be traded on secondary platforms. Interfaces resemble those of equity exchanges. Charts display price fluctuations. The user experience mirrors that of investment apps that have democratised stock trading.

But appearance is not equivalence.

Unlike shares listed on regulated exchanges, tokenized gemstone interests often trade on limited, platform-specific markets. Liquidity depends on buyer interest, platform solvency, and operational continuity. Should the platform collapse or face enforcement action, investors may find themselves holding digital representations of illiquid assets.

Recent enforcement actions by the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission in the broader digital asset ecosystem illustrate this vulnerability. Where token issuers promoted profit expectations and centralized managerial efforts, regulators intervened, applying established securities principles to novel technological wrappers.

The diamond may be geologically ancient, but the financial architecture surrounding it is startlingly contemporary. Its stability does not immunize its token from regulatory classification.

From Proposal to Prospectus

Perhaps the most decisive factor in determining whether jewelry offerings are subject to securities regulation lies in communication.

If a brand’s narrative centers on sentiment, craftsmanship, and personal meaning, the transaction remains comfortably within consumer goods law. If the narrative pivots toward measurable financial returns, portfolio strategy, and capital preservation, the transaction edges into investment territory.

The rhetorical shift can be subtle. A campaign that describes a diamond as “timeless” speaks to aesthetic endurance. A campaign that describes it as “historically outperforming traditional assets” speaks to financial expectation.

This is not a trivial distinction. The protection of reasonable investor expectations animates securities law. When promotional materials foreground profit potential, regulators are more likely to view purchasers as investors rather than consumers.

In a digital economy where Instagram reels double as prospectuses and influencer endorsements blur into financial advice, the lines are increasingly porous. Disclosure obligations may attach not only to the platform issuing fractional interests but also to the manner in which those interests are marketed.

Luxury thrives on mystique. Financial regulation demands clarity. The tension is inevitable.

The Feminization of Financial Fluency

There is a cultural dimension to this convergence that merits attention. Jewelry has historically been dismissed as ornamental indulgence, associated with domestic spaces and feminine identity. Its reconfiguration as an investment vehicle subtly destabilizes that narrative.

When a woman purchases fractional interests in diamonds as part of a diversified portfolio, she participates in a rearticulation of value. What was once coded as decorative becomes strategic. What was once sentimental becomes financial.

Yet empowerment rhetoric must not obscure risk.

The democratization of alternative assets often carries the sheen of accessibility while retaining the structural vulnerabilities of illiquid markets. Transparency in pricing methodologies, insurance arrangements, exit mechanisms, and fee structures becomes essential. Without it, the promise of diversification may dissolve into speculation.

Regulatory compliance, therefore, is not merely a bureaucratic hurdle. It is an ethical obligation in markets where aesthetic allure can obscure economic complexity.

Carats Across Borders

As jewelry platforms operate across borders, jurisdictional questions multiply. A tokenized diamond stored in Switzerland, marketed to Indian investors, and managed by a Delaware entity falls under  multiple regulatory regimes. Determining which securities laws apply, and how enforcement is coordinated, becomes a sophisticated exercise in private international law.

Fashion law, often preoccupied with trademarks and counterfeits, must expand its analytical aperture. The future of luxury commerce intersects not only with intellectual property but also with financial regulation, fintech compliance, and cross-border capital controls.

In this emerging terrain, lawyers advising luxury houses and technology startups alike must possess fluency in both valuation reports and statutory interpretation. The boutique firm of tomorrow may need to read a balance sheet as deftly as it reads a design patent.

All That Glitters Must Disclose

Jewelry will never relinquish its symbolic power. It will continue to mark engagements, celebrate achievements, and sparkle beneath gala lights. Yet as market innovators repackage gemstones as investment vehicles, the law insists on asking a pragmatic question.

Is the purchaser buying beauty, or buying into a managed enterprise promising profit?

The answer determines whether disclosure statements must replace velvet-lined assurances, whether registration filings must accompany marketing campaigns, and whether regulators will view the diamond not as décor but as a financial device.

In this delicate recalibration of couture and capital, the most valuable commodity may not be the stone itself, but clarity. When luxury begins to resemble leverage, when sparkle signals strategy, the legal system performs its quiet, corrective function.

The necklace may still rest gracefully against silk. But in certain transactions, it also rests squarely within the domain of securities law.

And that, in the modern marketplace, is no small distinction.

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