Labels

Those in Glass Houses Ought Not to Throw Stones – Discussing the Rampant Hypocrisy Embedded Within Streetwear Copyright Lawsuits



Deep within the realm of fashion, ‘streetwear’ has taken on a life of its own, deciding, denying and disrupting in any way it can. Although infant in its historical roots, streetwear insists on influencing what styles, tastes and moods are in trend. The magnitude of successful streetwear brands, armed with an immense ability to generate consumerist mania, has established a state of affairs whereby, unsurprisingly, the style remains a persistent frontrunner in today’s fashion industry. 

In lay person’s terms, streetwear describes a loose-fitting, graphic-heavy, comfort-favouring style of clothing, predominantly subscribed to by youthful skateboarders, surfers and, often, anyone who smokes weed. A fundamental reason for streetwear’s popularity, especially amongst younger generations, myself included, is its focus around individuality and self expression. Transcending societal norms and expectations, often challenging them, has solidified streetwear as a powerful way for individuals to communicate important social and political messages. Such is the overwhelming compulsion to indulge in the streetwear experience, to ‘be a part of it’, that a culture of obsession, fixation and, sadly, competition has ensued.

Notwithstanding its undeniable capacity to empower and inspire, streetwear is certainly not devoid of its social, economic and legal predicaments. Although not the subject of discussion in this article, it is needless to say that streetwear continues to promote and celebrate topics morally suspect, as well as encourage dubious second-hand resale tactics. The topic at issue for my purposes, rather, centres around streetwear’s relationship with the law, particularly instances of alleged copyright infringement. Having researched a number of high-profile disputes, and occasional courtroom skirmishes, it is apparent that in their pursuit to generate maximum publicity and acclaim, streetwear brands have unknowingly established a culture of hypocrisy and double-standards. 

By addressing, firstly, the numerous copyright infringement lawsuits plaguing streetwear pioneers Supreme (both as defendants and claimants), as well as the more contemporary clash between British heavyweights Corteiz and Palace Skateboards, a ‘pot calling the kettle black’ situation is evidently rife within the industry. However, before examining the contradictory nature of both case studies, it is beneficial to first provide a concise summary of copyright infringement claims, and their driving elements.


Copyright Infringement – The Moving Parts 

Copyright is a cumbersome and intricate area of law - one that can hardly be condensed into a short article. Although my brief description pertains to Australian rules of operation, the underlying principles that delineate copyright regulation are more or less the same across other jurisdictions. 

In Australia, copyright is principally governed by the Copyright Act 1968 (Cth) (‘the Act’), which provides a comprehensive scheme relating to eligibility, infringement and enforcement of copyrights. Per section 31(1)(b), the Act grants the author of an artistic work the exclusive prerogative to reproduce, publish and communicate their work, in material form, to the public. For artistic works published on or after 1 January 2019, copyright subsists until 70 years after the calendar year on which the author died. 

The High Court has provided useful commentary on the rationale behind copyright protection, and the degree to which it may protect authors’ intellectual property. As authoritatively asserted by Lindley LJ in Hollinrake v Truswell, ‘copyright does not extend to ideas, or systems, or schemes, or methods; it is confined to their expression; and if their expression is not copied the copyright is not infringed’. Such views were affirmed by Dawson J in Autodesk Inc. v Dyason, albeit with the qualification that it can sometimes be difficult to make a distinction between a mere idea, and its subsequent expression. Such is the difficulty with many a copyright lawsuit in demonstrating that artistic works extend beyond mere ideas, but rather exist in crystallised material form. 

Part III, Division 2 of the Act provides for a broad range of circumstances in which copyright in artistic works is deemed to be infringed. Fundamentally, per Section 36, copyright is infringed whenever a person, not being the owner of the copyright and without a valid licence, does an act that comprises any aspect of the protected work. As copyright hinges on providing authors with the exclusive right to reproduce their works in material form, a large number of disputes are contested on grounds of whether a protected work has been illegitimately reproduced. The objective similarity and overall resemblance of infringing material to a protected work comprise the essential aspects of proving reproduction. 

Having considered the broad rationale for copyright protection of artistic works, as well as the general formula for making out instances of infringement, it is hoped that a stronger appreciation for the blatant hypocrisy within streetwear copyright claims can be gained. In the proceeding examples, it would appear that, despite the authenticity of their respective legal qualms, streetwear powerhouses Supreme and Corteiz have been dished a healthy taste of their own medicine. 


Supreme – Streetwear’s Original Copycats? 

Although experiencing the slightest of revenue declines in recent years, it is fair to say Supreme remains a giant of the global streetwear empire. Born amidst New York’s 1990’s blooming skate culture, the brand rapidly became a haven for young skaters, artists and musicians. A crucial aspect of Supreme’s inception, however, is the particular logo chosen to represent the brand and its array of products. Inspired by the compelling allure of Barbara Kruger’s artwork of the 1980’s, founder James Jebbia selected for Supreme’s colour and typeface the exact combination previously employed by Kruger – a red box logo with white Futura Heavy Oblique font. So, notwithstanding the prominence of Supreme’s widely coveted ‘box logo’, it would appear that, since its very inception, the brand has aligned itself with a reputation for artistic appropriation. 

Supreme’s renowned ‘box logo’ label

Barbara Kruger artwork


Considering the very foundations of Supreme’s identity, it is hardly surprising that, early into its rising popularity, the brand was confronted with allegations of copyright infringement, its opponent being none other than French luxury fashion house Louis Vuitton. Having designed a number of skateboard decks styled with Louis Vuitton’s iconic monogram pattern, fused with the familiar ‘box logo’ branding, Supreme were swiftly handed a cease-and-desist letter alleging copyright infringement. Such was the blatancy of Supreme’s reproduction of Louis Vuitton’s protected creation that, within just two weeks, all infringing products were recalled and extinguished. Were this to be assessed through the lens of the Act, Supreme’s skateboards would, in my view, constitute a prima facie violation of section 36, entitling Louis Vuitton to injunctive relief and/or compensatory damages (section 115). Much to the defendant’s acuity, however, bringing the infringing behaviour before a court of law was, in the end, wisely avoided. 



Fast forward to 2012, Supreme found itself embroiled in another copyright and trademark infringement scuffle, only this time as plaintiffs, levelled against fellow New York-based streetwear label Married to the Mob (‘MTTM’). Valued at $10 million, the lawsuit centred around MTTM’s sale of t-shirts and other accessories emblazoned with the caption ‘Supreme Bitch’, essentially duplicating the now-infamous Supreme box logo. In a rather shameless choice of words, Jebbia claimed that MTTM founder Leah McSweeney was ‘trying to build her whole brand by piggybacking off Supreme’. The sheer hypocrisy of such a statement, in light of Supreme’s creative and artistic origins, beggars belief. Nevertheless, an out-of-court agreement was reached between the parties soon thereafter, the terms of which enabling MTTM to continue to manufacture products adorned with the caption ‘Supreme Bitch’, just not in the box logo style. 


To conclude my assessment of Supreme’s rather controversial relationship with copyright law, it is befitting to address the views of the narrative’s principal actor, Barbara Kruger. Interestingly, despite the inarguable influence of Kruger’s work in the development of contemporary conceptual art, she has, for the most part, maintained a candidly progressive attitude towards the protection of her intellectual property. Notwithstanding Supreme’s brazen decision to essentially adopt Kruger’s art-style as its own, the latter has always maintained that she ‘does not own a font’, and that enforcing intellectual property rights under fields such as copyright acts only as a ‘euphemism for corporate control’. In light of her progressive views however, it is hardly surprising that Kruger was particularly condemning of Supreme’s heavy-handed approach to the 2012 ‘Supreme Bitch’ dispute. Regarding the claimant’s no-nonsense stance on MTTM’s alleged infringement, Kruger deemed brands such as Supreme ‘to be suing each other on the most conventional, proprietary, monetary level’. To reinforce my overarching point, Kruger was evidently critical of Supreme’s flagrant hypocrisy. 



As alluded to in my opening remarks, Supreme are hardly the sole villains in the copyright double-standards saga, with the very issues examined above coming to fruition recently between two highly successful and influential British streetwear labels, Corteiz and Palace Skateboards. 


Corteiz vs Palace – A Story of Brazilian Flair 

Corteiz Rules the World (‘Corteiz’) is a London-based streetwear label that has, since its establishment in 2017, captured the imagination, and bank accounts, of British youth. Inspired by the marketing strategy famously first employed by Supreme, Corteiz have garnered a cult-like following through limited clothing ‘drops’, online releases and unique collaborations with distinguished industry names such as Nike. Fusing the blurred lines between fashion, music, art and sport, Corteiz have forced their name into the global streetwear conversation. 



Rewind to June 2024, where a crescendo of hype was building around the imminent release of Corteiz’ latest drop, rumoured to be a Copa America-inspired collection showcasing the iconic yellow-and-blue of the Brazilian national football team. The only problem is, some items within the drop were, in my view, an almost identical reproduction of the original Brazilian garments. Even upon a superficial inspection, the resemblance between Corteiz’ garments and the Brazilian jerseys of the 90’s and 2000’s was, well, uncanny. Surprisingly, however, Corteiz faced little in the way of copyright or trademark backlash, and released the collection to widespread acclaim. That is, of course, until streetwear rivals Palace decided to throw their hat into the ring… 

As recently as October 2024, Palace Skateboards, pioneers of their own accord in the London streetwear scene, conveniently decided to release their own collection of Brazil-themed tracksuits, jerseys and outerwear. As depicted, not only did the Palace items constitute a manifest reproduction of the iconic Brazil football logo and style, but also a rather blatant duplication of the similarly-inspired Corteiz collection. Although neither brand opted to take the first swing and commence legal proceedings (I mean how could they, they are as bad as each other), Corteiz did delve into some dirty marketing tactics, releasing a t-shirt featuring Palace’s renowned Tri-Ferg logo, emblazoned with the Corteiz branding. Hitherto the date of this article, Palace are yet to retort, but it is surely only a matter of time before the saga continues, only this time into the realm of intellectual property litigation. 

Corteiz

Palace Skateboards


Addressing the more general points I have made regarding copyright infringement suits within the streetwear industry, in particular the hypocrisy that thrives within it, the Corteiz-Palace feud provides a compelling example of how it can be seemingly acceptable for a brand to make practically-identical reproductions of a common logo and style, yet when a rival brand decides to take the same approach, it is treated with condemnation. Before brands such as Corteiz, and Supreme similarly, get on their high horse about who is, or has, illegitimately copied their artistic designs, they ought to check that they themselves are not the ones perpetrating the same infractions. Not only does this article shed a ribbon of light on the controversial mechanics of the streetwear industry, it also, I hope, demonstrates the complex nature of copyright infringement allegations, in particular the blurred lines between inspiration and emulation.

Author: Benjamin Davis.



Labels: