American Vogue's March iPad edition is a fresh, surprising embrace of technology, from the Harry Potter-esque preening and posing portrait of Beyoncé on the cover to music clips to a video interview with Alber Elbaz.  The future of magazines is finally here.

Perhaps the most eye-opening part of the issue, however, is a feature by Hamish Bowles on Céline cult designer Phoebe Philo, who not only revived the brand but created a new and influential version of chic minimalism.  She also created the perfect handbag -- but I digress.  The article's descriptions portray her as a woman of contradictions, reveling in her influence but at the same time almost fetishizing privacy and declaring that not existing on Google is the ultimate in chic.  Perhaps there's a reason that neither that handbag nor the house's collections are available for sale online, except secondhand.  Or counterfeit.

Her take on what the article describes as "a veritable industry of high-street imitations" is at once extraordinarily predictable and positively puzzling. 

"I've got friends with copied pieces," says Philo. "My mum's even got a knockoff bag!"

"I love it," she says.  "I'm nothing but flattered."  Like Coco Chanel before her, Philo feels that when you are not being copied, "that's when it's time to worry."

So far, predictable.  The standard "cool" designer response to copying is always to invoke the f-word.  ("Flattered," of course.)  She's even got her Coco quotes down.

The puzzling part is that Céline is owned by LVMH, the world's largest luxury conglomerate and the company that has in past declared a "zero tolerance" policy when it comes to fakes, backing up its position with litigation that, while not frequent, has been more experimental than that of some other storied fashion houses.  (As more than one in-house counsel has told me, "We all watch LV.")  Did someone clear the quotes with HQ?  And was Ms. Philo not aware of the self-correction offered by Marc Jacobs years ago after a similar slip?   

On the other hand, perhaps what we might call Phoebe's philomimesia* is more clever than it appears at first gasp.  (What, you didn't gasp?) 

Mlle. Chanel reportedly tossed off a couple of bons mots indicating indifference to copying, but in reality also exercised her considerable French legal rights when in came to copyists.  The notoriously independent designer even partnered with fellow couturiere Madeleine Vionnet to vanquish a particularly persistent pirate.  In other words, she knew what to say to the press and the public to appear cool as a cucumber about copying but was all business in the courtroom.  (The occasional historical fact comes in handy amid a sea of questionable quotes.  Back in 2006, when I testified in Congress with regard to concerns about copying, one of the opponents of protection tossed off an ill-considered Chanel quote -- and shrank visibly after I politely added historical context.  I don't know that he's been heard from on the subject since -- though that hasn't stopped others from deliberately offering out-of-context quotes.)
 
Phoebe may be as smart and subtle as Coco in managing her audience -- especially since she must be aware that the LVMH legal team keeps busy on behalf of its family of brands, and she did refer to knockoffs rather than to actual counterfeits attempting to appear genuine. 

Or she may simply have been speaking off the cuff.  After all, it's understandable that designers are flattered by admiration for their work, perhaps even when that "admiration" is at the hands of thieves with good taste, though designers with an eye on the bottom line have learned to be wary of the financial fallout from copying.  And as a fellow who'd been convicted of counterfeiting once told me, you really can judge the rise and fall of labels' fortunes by what's most popular on Canal Street. 

Carefully constructed or clueless, the quoted remarks suggest a recommendation to Ms. Philo on which we can all agree.  Phoebe, please buy your mum a real bag!


*No I don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of extremely obscure medical terms like philomimesia, and certainly not of one that as of now appears exactly 5 times in a Google search, only 2 of those in English.  (A chic achievement, in Phoebe's world.)  It's just a word that I thought ought to exist, with a less extreme valence than the medical definition.  I therefore propose that we shorten slightly it to "philomimesis" for convenience, use it in popular parlance to indicate a love of copies or copying, note an ancient Greek etymology (philo + mimesis), add an adjectival form ("philomimetic"), and consider it the perfect pun in context.  Or a contagious social disease. 

New York Fashion Week is all about what's "in" and what's not.  And on the eve of the Fall/Winter '13 shows, Occupy Wall Street has announced plans to enter the fashion fray and proclaim unpaid internships "out." 

Is OWS still around, you ask?  And why has the movement turned its attention from Wall Street and finance to 7th Avenue and fashion, or more immediately to the Fashion Week tents at Lincoln Center? 

Presumably fashion's glamor quotient and the publicity potential provided by the phalanx of photographers outside the tents are contributing factors, but perhaps so is the fact that unpaid internships are particularly prevalent in fabulous fields like fashion, publishing, and entertainment.  The oft-repeated refrain of The Devil Wears Prada, "A million girls would kill for this job," is true not only of poorly paid, entry-level assistantships, but also of internships.  Less-lustrous corners of the labor market like garbage removal and pest control are not besieged with constant requests to take on a colleague's friend's cousin's kid as an intern, please, as a favor. 

And so, from an industry perspective, why not admit interns to the inevitably less sparkling world behind the scenes and let them make themselves useful?

Well, labor law is the reason why not.  Or at least why employers should proceed with caution.

Back in 2010, the New York Times reported that with paid jobs scarce and the numbers of unpaid internships on the rise, the U.S. Department of Labor was stepping up scrutiny according to its 6 little-known and less-heeded criteria for unpaid internships.  Many employers, including fashion folks, got nervous.  Internships continued, however, with requiring school credit becoming a common means of making sure that interns were compensated in some form. Some companies even decided to offer token wages.   

Upon request, we created a Fashion Law Institute memo summarizing the federal law along with a few sample designer "do's" and "don't's."  And, for the most part, the issue was forgotten.  Until former fashion magazine intern Diana Wang sued Hearst publications in a widely publicized lawsuit that has since become a class action.  (In a mild linguistic chuckle, the firm representing the interns is Outten & Golden.)  And then the issue was largely forgotten again.

Now enter OWS, which apparently has an Intern Labor Rights division.  The movement has tried protesting New York Fashion Week before, with embarrassingly minimal turnout.  Will they be more of a presence this coming week, with a specific issue in mind, and will interns rushing backstage with their arms full of designer duds decide en masse to join the picket lines instead?  That is, will there be any impact?  Hard to tell, since veteran fashion editors are accustomed to walking past passionate protests over everything from fur to the designer daughter of an Uzbek dictator.

But at least we may find out what one might wear to protest something as universal as fashion.

Santa's elves aren't the only ones who have been working feverishly before the holidays. The lawyers for Instagram recently posed new Terms of Use for the popular photo-sharing service, and after a public backlash put Instagram on the Internet's naughty list, they're back at their office workshops hammering out another revised draft.

Counterfeit Chic has had several inquiries from fashion folks uncertain about what Instagram's new terms will mean for them.  If the terms as written take effect on January 16, will Instagram have the right to sell their names and likenesses without permission?  Would it be possible for a brand to use a model in an ad without paying a fee?  Could a competitor legally copy a photographed design or trademark?

Although Instagram --or its PR team -- insists that it never intended to do any of these things, the fashion community has a legitimate basis for concern. There are plenty of instances where companies felt free to exploit others' names and likenesses without permission or payment, so why trust a company to respect your rights when its lawyers expressly take them away?

Better watch out ...

As South Park cleverly noted in its classic (albeit crude) episode on iTunes updates, most people don't bother to read online terms of service.  However, the announced changes to Instagram's terms illustrate why this can be a big mistake.  

Posting a photo on any social network site raises at least three significant legal concerns:

• ownership of the photo itself;  
• right of publicity in regard to the use of your name or likeness; and
• privacy and intellectual property rights in any other material posted to or generated through use of the site.

Ordinarily, U.S. copyright law protects photos, and a patchwork of state laws recognizes each individual's right of publicity, limiting the use of your name or likeness without permission.  But accepting terms of service like Instagram's can wipe out those legal protections with a single click.

What's naughty and nice

For anyone wishing to keep control the rights in material on Instagram, the first four paragraphs in the section entitled "Rights" raise substantial problems.

This year's Cyber Monday may be merely part of a cyber shopping season -- for the first time over half of American consumers shopped online during the holiday weekend -- but one thing hasn't changed: the counterfeiting conundrum we might call "cyber shrinkage." 

According to an eye-opening new report from online brand protection firm MarkMonitor, one in five online bargain hunters lands on sites selling fakes instead of legitimate discounted merchandise.  These aren't the shoppers deliberately looking for counterfeits or "replicas," mind you -- these are shoppers using search terms like "discount," "clearance," and "outlet."  It turns out that honest bargain hunters are demographically almost identical to their counterfeit-seeking cousins in terms of education and household income, but there are 20 times as many of them.  That adds up to a lot of otherwise savvy sale shoppers diverted to sites selling counterfeits.  Even worse news for brand owners: sites selling fakes are sticky.  Shoppers stayed longer and were more likely to place counterfeits in their shopping carts, potentially believing that they'd simply found discount deals.

The silver lining in the MarkMonitor report, prepared in collaboration with Nielsen and including both U.S. and European data, is a wealth of information about consumer behavior.  The research project started with an insight of simple brilliance, namely that the methods used in search-and-destroy missions aimed at shutting down counterfeit websites could also be employed to elicit information and develop constructive brand strategies.  Trademark lawyers regularly describe their work in terms of the arcade game Whac-a-Mole -- counterfeit sites pop up, intellectual property owners smack them down, the fakes pop up again elsewhere.  The end result?  A lot of whacked moles -- or counterfeiters, as the case may be.  But to extend the analogy, why not take that data and make a moleskin coat?

Among the report's general recommendations is the suggestion that brands -- including luxury labels that don't engage in online sales -- buy terms like "discount" in order to direct search traffic and educate consumers.  The report also suggests purchasing domain names with bargain-related terms before counterfeiters do.  A conversation with the MarkMonitor team indicates that the strategic potential of this data, and the more specific details available to individual companies, is even more extensive.  Knowledge that consumers in particular locations are searching for deals on specific brands or product categories (footwear turns out to be a universal favorite) can inform plans for a diffusion line, a partnership with a flash sale site, or the establishment of an outlet.  After all, with the increasing popularity and sophistication of online bargain shopping, it doesn't pay to let counterfeit sites steal away one in five potential customers.

(Note:  No actual moles were harmed in the preparation of the MarkMonitor Shopping Report.  But mammals engaged in underground counterfeiting activities may be another story.)

When Chris Burch's first C. Wonder store opened its lacquered lime-green doors, just around the corner from the distinctive lacquered orange doors of the original Tory Burch store, the visual association was striking.  The obvious question, of course, was, "Wonder what Tory herself Cs?" 

Curious consumers didn't have to wait long to find out.  In the words of yesterday's legal salvo, a "knockoff store." And the pictorial parade doesn't stop at the door -- but we're getting ahead of ourselves.

For those who haven't been following the nascent retail legal battle of the former Mr. & Mrs. Burch, each of whom still owns a substantial stake in the Tory Burch company, the opening shot was actually fired by Mr. B last month.  The parties had apparently been involved in discussions regarding the series of similarities between the Tory Burch trade dress and the design of the new, cheaper chain and its merchandise.  This resulted in some changes to subsequent C. Wonder outlets, evidently including the elimination of those green doors, but the two sides had yet not reached a written agreement -- a situation about which potential investors became aware and expressed reservations, to Chris Burch's dismay.

Instead of continuing to negotiate, Chris filed a complaint in Delaware state court, focusing not on Tory's concerns regarding copying but on blame for the delayed sale and on a series of allegations regarding the actions of the Tory Burch board.  (It's hardly a dry and dispassionate corporate recital, however.  From the use of the term "vicious" in the first line to repeated references to the former couple's respective prior experience, the document puts the "complaint" back in "legal complaint."  In 2012, who goes to court and argues in essence that the woman whose name is on the label was really just the little woman?  According to the company website, that should be the little CEO, please.)

Yesterday, Tory filed an answer to the complaint, denying its allegations, as well as an extensively illustrated series of counterclaims.  Personally, I keep picturing the potentially pilfered pouf among other decorative elements and products -- in between reading descriptions of everything from breach of fiduciary duty and contract to unfair competition.

Tory Burch (L) and C. Wonder ottomans

In all, detailing and dissecting the claims and counterclaims would require a far longer discussion, but a core element of the case relates to what not only consumers but also potential investors in the Tory Burch company see when they see C. Wonder, and how this might affect their assessment of  the original company's value.  In today's world, isn't the existence of an alleged copycat chain run by someone with extensive insider knowledge of the original something that an investor would want to know?

As if this case weren't colorful enough, WWD today offers extensive quotes from Chancellor Leo Strine, who has apparently already called this case "a drunken WASP fest."  He's also reportedly opined -- and all this merely at a scheduling hearing -- that "there's really nothing all that new about bright clothing and all that kind of stuff," a point of view derived from his experience with "all the preppy clothier cases" he's been assigned in the past and his claim to cultural immersion in preppy styles.  (No doubt the court will become better acquainted with the signature Tory Burch style versus preppy classics as the case progresses. Very few New England homes have orange doors, for a start.)

Meanwhile, the designers of C. Wonder may not have sated their alleged hunger for borrowed trade dress.  A walk by the windows of one of the newer outlets might lead the mind of a a true WASP to wonder...bread.

UPDATE, November 8, 2012: Yesterday the Delaware Supreme Court chided the garrulous judge for his digression in another case. Sounds like he'll keep courtroom observers -- if not the parties -- in stitches.

Once again, the little "fashion copyright" bill that could has been made it through the Senate Judiciary Committee and is headed for the full Senate!

This morning the committee briefly discussed the Innovative Design Protection Act, S. 3523 (IDPA  text here; short description here).  The only skirmish was over a proposal by Senator Michael Lee (R-Utah) to add a "loser pays" provision -- to a bill that is already more narrowly tailored than ever, with more experimental deterrents to litigation and a shorter term of protection than any intellectual property law ever created, anywhere, period.  The wisdom of the bill's primary co-sponsor, Senator Chuck Schumer (D-NY) prevailed, and the proposed amendment was voted down before the final bill moved forward. 

If only all government actions were so quick and efficient!  (Although one wonders whether Senator Orrin Hatch, also R-Utah and the primary Republican co-sponsor of the bill, may give his junior colleague a dressing down.) 

As New York Fashion Week enters its final days, Spring/Summer '13 will be remembered not only for runway trends -- including a blizzard of white, splashes of acid green and orange, relaxed trousers, terrific tailoring, and some especially stunning stripes -- but also as the the season when the legal profession took note of the fashion calendar.

IN THE U.S. CONGRESS today, Senator Chuck Schumer introduced the newest version of the fashion design protection legislation originally proposed in 2006 and currently pending in the House of Representatives.  WWD broke the story even before the official text was made public; since many of you have asked, I've shared it with you here.  Happily the title isn't such a mouthful this time; the IDPPPA is now simply the IDPA, the "Innovative Design Protection Act."  Other than the loss of a couple of superfluous Ps and added exceptions for importers and internet service providers, the biggest changes in in the bill from the House version and the previous Senate version are the following:

• a provision requiring detailed written notice to alleged infringers, and
  
• a 21-day moratorium on commencement of an action after that notice.  And no, damages won't accrue during those 3 weeks.

Once more unto the breeches, dear friends, once more! 

THE U.S. COURT OF APPEALS FOR THE 2ND CIRCUIT was even more dramatic in its timing, waiting until the first day of Fashion Week to finally release its opinion in Christian Louboutin v. YSL.  Christian justly kept his red sole trademark, albeit with a carveout for completely monochromatic red shoes like YSL's; the district court's overreaching attempt to ban all single-color trademarks in fashion was tossed out like a bad impulse purchase.  One small sigh of relief for a man, one giant sigh of relief for the fashion community.  Now we can all put up our red soles and rest.

Fashion law even made it to arguably the world's largest stage, with a FASHION LAW INSTITUTE show in the tents celebrating our Fashion Law Pop-Up Clinics, as well as our 2nd anniversary.  Congratulations to Dimitry Said Chamy, EMC2 Emmett McCarthy, Gemma Redux, Keely Rea, Kelima K, and Vespertine on a beautiful presentation, and thanks to all of you who joined us!  

And to punctuate a week during which legal protection of fashion designs was right on trend, the COUNCIL OF FASHION DESIGNERS OF AMERICA not only partnered again with eBay on "You Can't Fake Fashion" tote bags but also released a new version of its Design Manifesto. 

Quite the fashion law week!

Although the legal battle between Christian Louboutin and YSL is the early frontrunner for intellectual property and fashion dispute of the decade, forcing many otherwise fashion-phobic attorneys to take a stab at pronouncing the parties' names, the celebrations surrounding Louboutin's 20th anniversary continue.  

Or if not all soles, at least the red ones -- courtesy of Christian Louboutin, who celebrated 20 years and the release of his new book last night at Barneys New York with a chorus of well-shod sartorial saints.  

When the New York Times' Eric Wilson listened to Oprah Winfrey and Ralph Lauren chat for charity, one exchange stood out: 

"How do you keep reinventing?"

"You copy," he said. "Forty-five years of copying, that's why I'm here."

Of course, everyone knows that the signature looks of the Ralph Lauren family of brands are inspired by classic Americana -- with an occasional detour around the globe -- but coming from the guy who was on the losing end of the best-known design piracy case of the late 20th century, the admission strikes a chord. 

Honestly, honesty?  Now, when the U.S. may be on the brink of finally passing a law that, while it wouldn't come anywhere near the level of the French protection that wrangled Ralph, would have a similar effect in some cases?   

Was it a passive protest or conscience-clearing comment?  You decide.  (And in the meantime, Ralph's crack team of attorneys, a truly talented collection, will continue to be hard at work protecting his marvelously strong marks.)
 

Counterfeit Chic has two reasons to cheer for the U.S.Chamber this fall:  an informative visit to the Fashion Law Institute from a group of Chinese Supreme People's Court judges and a newly issued letter in support of the Innovative Design Protection and Piracy Prevention Act (IDPPPA), currently H.R. 2511. 

The pithiest part of the letter may be the statistics, which refer to "14,000 companies in the fashion and apparel industry in the U.S., directly employing approximately 4 million Americans and indirectly employing countless others," though I confess a personal partiality to my punny "narrowly tailored" thumbprint.  (Spotting the meme is always amusing, though it's a pity it can't be in the actual legislation.)  Of course, as long as we're aggregating numbers, let's not forget the 312 million Americans who regularly wear clothes, in some fashion.  Still think it's frivolous?

And the most memorable quote from the China-U.S. roundtable may be from the lovely Senior Judge Xia Junli, who concluded a discussion of comparative fashion design protection by saying, "I hope your bill passes...so that we can come back and study it."  Yes and yes!

Of course, it sounds like China already has better formal, albeit untested, intellectual property protection for fashion designs than the U.S. does.  (Who do we think we are, anyway, a global leader in IP protection?)  Perhaps the letter from the U.S. Chamber of Commerce will help clean things up on this side of the world!   

You can't take it with you -- or can you?  

In the words of the Daily Mail, "[i]t was never going to break new fashion ground."  

This assessment of the new Kardashian Kollection for Sears is particularly appropriate to one handbag in particular, a klose kopy of the easily recognizable Botkier Clyde bag, which has been around since '04.  Will celebrity "designers" ever look beyond their own klosets for inspiration? 


Sadly for the softer side of Sears, this particular design includes iconic Botkier elements that may very well add up to trade dress protection -- and Monica Botkier knows it.  Dash for your lawyers, ladies. 

In an effort to stanch the flow of red dye onto the soles of competing YSL shoes, Louboutin not only filed a lawsuit back in April but also asked the court for a preliminary injunction against unauthorized use of his trademarked red soles.  YSL fought back with references to red soles from Louis XIV's heels to Dorothy's ruby slippers to examples from its own archives, claiming that no cobbler can corner the market on red -- and that the Louboutin trademark is thus invalid. 

Today's decision from Judge Victor Marrero, while merely the denial of a preliminary injunction, fell decidedly on the side of YSL -- though the ultimate outcome of the case remains uncertain.  And even were Louboutin's trademark to be canceled in the U.S., the red soles were declared "distinctive" and thus eligible for protection in Europe just two months ago. 

More significant from the perspective of fashion and intellectual property law is the analogy that guided the court's decision.  Fashion designers often rely on trademark law for what little legal protection they have in the U.S., as patents are typically unattainable or impractical and copyright law specifically excludes fashion designs.  Useful articles are categorically excluded from copyright protection, and the Copyright Office has consistently taken the position that articles of apparel are useful.

Judge Marrero, however, hung his order on the hypothetical example of Picasso attempting to prevent Monet from using the color blue in the Water Lilies series because the color had been Picasso's hallmark during his Blue Period.  Unthinkable from an art history perspective, of course.  The court acknowledges that no analogy is perfect -- but then goes on to claim that both painting and fashion design exist in the overlapping spheres of art and commerce, and that neither is well served by individual monopolies on color.

Setting aside the troubling conflation of use of a red sole as a trademark versus use as a design element, the separation of which is the true challenge in this case, the court's analogy raises an essential question:  Why are paintings characterized as "art" and entitled to full copyright protection while fashion receives almost none?
 
This question captured my attention back when I was a law student, has informed a decade and a half of thought and research -- and will hopefully one day no longer be necessary.  But in the meantime, Gucci should shelter its trademarked green-red-green stripes, and Tiffany had better watch its little blue boxes' backs.

Alas, Counterfeit Chic arrived at eBay too late to secure this season's limited edition "it" tote -- the fashion-for-a cause-version of the "it" bag.  The CFDA-eBay collaboration to combat counterfeiting and celebrate original design included the basic $35 model, bearing the slogan, "You Can't Fake Fashion,"

And speaking of aspiration, here's hoping for a reissue of the sold-out tote!  Or better still, a time when its message is no longer necessary.   

Again.

With public announcement of the upcoming House subcommittee hearing on the Innovative Design Protection and Piracy Prevention Act (IDPPPA, or ID3PA, as Star Wars fans might prefer) this Friday, my email accounts look like popcorn overflowing one of those old-fashioned theater kettle popcorn makers.  Before I'm completely buried under kernels of wit and wisdom, allow me to answer a few of your personal questions with a stroll down memory lane.  The short answer to many of them?  A long time.

If you've dropped by for a quick review of the actual bill, click here for a description of the Senate version from the last Congress, essentially the same text as the new bill in the House. 

And now, back to that mini-memoir. 

A century.  That's the period during which U.S. fashion designers have been seeking intellectual property protection from Congress -- though the historian in me always starts the story a bit earlier.  It's also happens to be how far back I can document my own family's arrival in America and involvement with the fashion industry.

15 years.  That's how far back my personal files on the question of intellectual property law and fashion design stretch.  Repeated thanks to my first research assistant, Kelly, who helped me start the research process.  (See also "A century, feels like.")

6 years.  That's the age of Counterfeit Chic, which was the first blog on fashion & law and a place to share the topics about which I'd been thinking and starting to speak and write publicly.  Happily, you read it!  In class, late at night, for work, while you were supposed to be working....  (Why the years of fairly-silent-but-not-dormant study?  Long story.)

5 years.  Exactly 5 years and 4 Congresses ago this month, in fact.  That was the first showing of Ms. Scafidi Goes to Washington -- with naivité almost equivalent to Jimmy Stewart's, despite its being my hometown -- and also the year we started teaching fashion law, another first. Last month I took a moment to reread my original congressional testimony, and there they are:  all of the arguments that have been bandied about in favor of protection since.  Maybe thinking about it for a decade first wasn't such a bad idea.

1 year.  That's how long ago the current version of the fashion design protection bill was introduced in the Senate, after a year and a half of exhaustive and exhausting negotiation and revision of the text.  Alas, after the groundbreaking bill (IMHO) was approved by the Senate Judiciary committee, the Congressional clock ran out.   

<1 year.  That's the length of time the Fashion Law Institute, the world's first academic center on the subject, has been in existence.  Yes, it's about studying, teaching, and sharing information about various aspects of fashion and intellectual property -- and so many more topics.   Of course, I've hardly slept or blogged since, but newborns require a lot of attention.

Several days hence.  Home again to Washington, which JFK infamously called the city of Southern efficiency and Northern charm.  It's taken me quite a while to understand that one. 

During the 112th Congress.  (Don't all memoirs end with the hope that future perfect is more than a verb tense?)   Creative fashion designers will have celebrated the bill's passage into law -- I hope!  


Related posts: IDPPPA: Introducing the Innovative Design Protection and PIracy Prevention Act, a.k.a. Fashion Copyright, March on Washington 4, March on Washington 3, March on Washington 2, March on Washington, Washington Fashion Week 2,  Washington Fashion Week, Ms. Scafidi Goes to Washington,  How I Spent My Summer Vacation,  I'm Just a Bill  

At the wedding of a twin years ago, a group of friends gathered around the bride at the reception to compliment her dress.  Her sister and maid of honor, who was to be married only a few months later, added, "You look beautiful.  I should wear it too."

The rather unlovely bride -- at least in terms of temperament -- turned and snapped, "Why would I let you do that?!  We're already identical, and this is my dress!"  An awkward silence fell as the twin sisters glared at each other.
Presumably Kate Middleton will vent no such fury on the aspiring princesses-for-a-day who are already coveting her Alexander McQueen dress, or knockoffs thereof.  The memory of that awkward wedding moment, however, does call to mind every woman's dilemma, heightened by the tense expectations of a wedding day:  When is wearing the same dress as someone else a faux pas, and when is it merely marching in step with style?

For the legions of bridal, prom, and special occasion designers queuing up to copy Kate's bridal gown, the issues of identicality are less social and more economic and legal.  How can copies be made at the greatest speed and lowest price?  And how close is too close, legally speaking?

In the U.S., design pirates sailing the white-capped waves of bridal lace and silk face few or no obstacles.  Intellectual property law only rarely protects dress designs, though the instant fame of Kate's dress could support a trade dress argument.  (Contrary to the New York Times article on the subject, no "subtle modifications" are required by current U.S. copyright law -- at least until the eventual passage of the IDPPPA or a similar bill.)  In the U.K., however, high street shops and budget bridal emporia will have to copy carefully in order to remain on the right side of the law protecting deigns. 

In the case of Sarah Burton's Alexander McQueen creation for Kate, copyists can take comfort in the fact that, while the style is flattering to Kate and the many would-be dupliKates, the dress is not especially original.  Long lace sleeves and V-shaped neckline over an opaque sweetheart bodice, deeply pleated A-line skirt, train -- been there, done, that, although not this decade.  As with the much copied Issa and Reiss dresses that Kate wore for the announcement of her engagement and the official portrait, the look is classic and elegant -- neither a Diana-style meringue nor an avant-garde style statement. 

On the other hand, even in the U.S. original lace patterns are subject to copyright protection, so the floral lace-covered bodice should give the most meticulous of imitators pause.  As copyists 'round the globe scream for their seamstresses, dismiss their beaders, and buy as much lace as possible, they'll need to be wary of being caught in their own netting -- although it's more often the fabric mills that are responsible for printed patterns and lace designs sold to clothing manufacturers.

Of course, most manufacturers who find themselves "inspired" by Kate's gown are old hands at the imitation game, and they know their local laws well.  Lawyers 'round the world, feel free to enjoy the royal wedding ceremony and linger over the celebration -- the real race right now is not to the courthouse, but to the sales rack.  Once British bookies have paid out on the 6-1 odds that Sarah Burton would be the designated designer, the next bet is who will have the quickest copies. 

One way or another, it will be a photo finish.   

In a Lenten lawsuit filed yesterday, Christian Louboutin has accused the house of Yves Saint Laurent of tarnishing the late designer's halo by copying Louboutin's trademarked red soles. 

But is this a cardinal (red) sin, legally speaking, or another fling with the aesthetic functionality defense that Counterfeit Chic has previously surmised may be a loophole protecting other apparent red-on-red ripoffs?
 

In several of its styles, YSL created not only red shoes with red outsoles, but also purple with purple soles and black with black soles.  Will the company claim that the offending red sole was a non-trademark use chosen simply to match the upper portion of the shoe, thus transubstantiating the otherwise trademarked red sole into a defensible design detail?  With two such successful and storied luxury brands battling it out, we may finally learn whether or not this legal doctrine will be hurled from high heel heaven.

Little-used law aside, however, Counterfeit Chic is somewhat surprised that designers for the distinguished house of YSL would walk where angels fear to tread and hopes that Christian isn't thrown to the legal lions.

UPDATE:  Complaint here.

ADDITIONAL UPDATE:  Answer and counterclaim here.

You can never be too rich or too thin -- or can you?

The fashion industry is engaged in a constant dialogue about what is beautiful.  And twice a year, during the world's series of major fashion weeks, an issue arises that divides public opinion like a shark fin cutting the still, mirrored surface of a lagoon:  Is fashion's ever taller, ever thinner, Silly Putty standard of beauty harmful?

Several years ago, in the wake of the highly publicized deaths of several models who had struggled with eating disorders, many international fashion capitals considered mandatory regulations regarding models' weight.  New York legislators ultimately declined to pass city or state laws enforcing controversial BMI standards, and American designers instead adopted health awareness guidelines. 

Still, the debate rages on:  If runways can become more racially diverse and still reflect designers' visions -- call it the Michelle O effect -- could diversity of size follow?

Your favorite law prof recently enjoyed a conversation about size with model/filmmaker Sara Ziff and model/author Crystal Renn, two wonderful women with a mission to make the world safer for models, and by extension for the rest of us.  You can check it out, and join in, over at New York Magazine.  And if you haven't seen or read Sara's and Crystal's respective stories, you'll enjoy them -- along with a guilt-free bowl of popcorn.

Still skeptical about whether models of different sizes could ever share the same runway?  Take a look at this passage from Frieda Steinmann Curtis' book, How to Give a Fashion Show, originally published in 1950:

One...should be a well-built statuesque woman, not too heavy but certainly not thin, who can wear a size 16 or 18 and make a very smart appearance.  It is also a good idea to have a white or grey-haired woman, with a young face and a medium-sized figure, as a permanent model.  Add to these, two younger girls, size 10 and 12, and you will have a fine group around which you can always build a satisfactory show. 

Even taking into account size deflation -- a 16 or 18 in 1950 might be an 8 or 10 today -- that's a far cry from modern casting directors' uniform size zero. 

Of course, change is always more complex to implement than it originally seems.  A designer may wish to present a particular aesthetic concept requiring specific models.  And in general, an interchangeable set of identically molded models is easier and thus less expensive to fit than a group of distinct individual bodies.  On the other hand, fit is no substitute for performance and personality.  And now that fashion shows are increasingly seen from the internet's infinite front row rather than by limited group of tastemakers, what customer wouldn't warm to seeing a more polished version of herself on the runway?  

So, retro (size) chic anyone?