Patagonia vs. Pattie Gonia: What a Drag

By Emily Poler

It’s June, so happy Pride! I certainly hope this month’s events will be full of fun for everyone who honors and rejoices in the celebrations, although I worry about one drag superstar who is currently embroiled in a trademark infringement case. It’s blowing up on social media at the moment and, unfortunately, I don’t think it is going to end well for her.

Pattie Gonia is an activist, performer and hiking enthusiast who uses her Instagram and TikTok to promote LGBTQ+ and environmental causes to almost three million followers. She’s also the defendant in a lawsuit brought by — you guessed it — outdoor apparel brand Patagonia, which accuses her of appropriating its trademark.

The “Pattie Gonia” persona was created by Wyn Wiley in 2018, who says the name was inspired by the region in South America, and not a parody of the clothing company. During her initial rise to fame she accomplished feats like hiking the California coast in high heels, with her various adventures raising millions for environmental nonprofits. Patagonia was apparently aware of and cool with her name in connection with such advocacy. That changed in early 2022, when the company learned Pattie Gonia was planning fundraising partnerships with Hydro Flask and The North Face — two of Patagonia’s competitors. The parties met and, according to Patagonia, came up with an agreement that, from Patagonia’s point of view, provided that Pattie Gonia would not use Patagonia’s logos, fonts, or designs that mimic Patagonia’s in her visual materials or use “Pattie Gonia” in any form on any product. These understandings were subsequently memorialized in emails. According to Patagonia, the idea here was to both protect Patagonia’s brand and “leave some space for Pattie Gonia’s fundraising in support of environmental causes.” 

Fast forward a few years and we have this: 

And, perhaps more egregiously (look at the logo on the gloves):

What’s more, in September 2025 Pattie Gonia sought to register a trademark for “Pattie Gonia” for drag shows and t-shirts, as well as promotion of goods and services on social media.  

Unsurprisingly, Patagonia sued, asserting claims for, among other things, trademark infringement, unfair competition, and trademark dilution. The company has made clear in its statements that it recognizes both parties share the same devotion to environmentalism, going on to say, “we wish this lawsuit had not been necessary, and we want to acknowledge any hurt it has caused, especially in the LGBTQ+ community.” The company is only seeking to recover $1 from Pattie Gonia, instead asking her to “withdraw all trademark applications,” “stop using our logos” and “stop selling and promoting apparel and other products as Pattie Gonia.”

Pattie Gonia, through her lawyers, answered the complaint by denying the allegations and asking for a trial. The dispute has flown pretty much under the radar since the suit was filed in January, but last month she took her case to social media, insisting “no deal” and inspiring her upset followers to demand Patagonia drop the suit. She also responded through an open letter to Patagonia’s CEO, Board of Directors and others, concluding with a plea to “make peace and get back to our common love of the planet including our namesake region in South America named Patagonia.” She also denied ever using the Patagonia brand, logo or font on her merch, claiming “the lawsuit cherry-picks a few examples of playful parody and fan art and tries to spin those into some kind of vast use of their logo.”

Pattie Gonia says she’s willing to drop her trademark registration filing and “never parody their logo ever again,” but she’s standing firm on Patagonia’s third demand — that she stop selling Pattie Gonia branded product — saying it would eliminate “the partnership work with other brands that I’ve done for years to pay for education, advocacy and activism that me and my team do. If I can’t do partnerships as Pattie Gonia, it breaks the whole ecosystem of advocacy and community engagement.” 

As much as my heart is very much with Pattie Gonia, I have a couple of observations about this lawsuit, some of which may give her and her followers some hope, but ultimately point to a bad end for the performer:

  1. For those in the back (and everyone else), if you have an agreement, get it in writing. The emails Patagonia is relying on may be enough here, but it would definitely have been better to create a written document. In fact, while Patagonia repeatedly says it had an agreement with Pattie Gonia delineating what each of them could and could not do, Patagonia itself doesn’t seem to think that there’s anything enforceable here because, notably, it doesn’t bring a breach of contract claim; 
  2. There’s a decent argument that Pattie Gonia’s merch without anything resembling Patagonia’s very recognizable logo isn’t infringing; 
  3. WIth that said, an alternative spelling that is pronounced the same or similarly to an existing mark can be the basis for trademark infringement;
  4. Also, to the extent that consumers think that Pattie Gonia is somehow affiliated with or endorsed by Patagonia, that’s a basis for liability;
  5. The fact that both Patagonia and Pattie Gonia are based on an actual place doesn’t change the analysis because it’s pretty safe to say that many consumers associate the word with the company; 
  6. To the extent there’s a defense of parody to claims of trademark infringement, it could theoretically apply to drag shows, but it’s not going to apply to Pattie Gonia’s sale of t-shirts and other merch; and
  7. Regardless of whether Pattie Gonia is promoting causes Patagonia supports, Patagonia has to enforce its trademark rights or else it risks losing them.  

At the heart of Patagonia’s suit is, of course, the question of whether “Pattie Gonia” is likely to cause confusion or dilute Patagonia’s brand by causing consumers to think Patagonia has sponsored or approved any of Pattie Gonia’s products. And looking at the pictures above, it seems pretty likely.

Replevin of Rufus: A Brief Primer on the Recovery of Chattel

By Laura Trachtman

One of my favorite scenes from Legally Blonde is when Elle and Paulette go to retrieve Paulette’s bulldog Rufus. If you’ve seen the movie, you know what I mean: Elle confronts Paulette’s ex, Dewey, pelts him with legal jargon that’s totally inapplicable to the situation, and then gets down to business. Elle tells Dewey that as he has kept the residence he and Paulette formerly shared, Paulette is entitled to full canine property ownership. As Dewey stares at Paulette and Elle blankly, Paulette snaps, “I’m taking the dog, dumbass!” 

While seeing Paulette and Elle drive off with furbaby Rufus (and Bruiser, of course) warms the cockles of my dog-loving heart, what they did is not actually legal. Setting aside jurisdictional issues, mainly because I’m not barred in Massachusetts where the movie is set, the correct way to recover Baby Rufus is to initiate an action for the recovery of chattel, which just means personal (as opposed to real) property. This is known in common law as replevin. 

Replevin, along with most of our legal terminology, comes from the Latin: in this instance the verb plebere, to give surety. Somewhere down the line, the French turned it into replevir, from re- + plevir, which has the same meaning. And that’s enough linguistics for a law blog.  

To demonstrate one’s entitlement to replevin, there are a few procedural steps which must be followed. First, the true owner of the chattel must demand its return. That’s when the three-year statute of limitations starts running. As an interesting aside, this is only applicable in situations where a good-faith possessor of the chattel is actually in possession; if a thief has the chattel, the statute of limitations runs from the time of the theft. 

Getting back to Legally Blonde: if Dewey wanted to keep Rufus, then Paulette should sue Dewey for replevin. In so doing, she would have to demonstrate that she is the owner of the precious baby Rufus. She could do this by providing a receipt for Rufus’ adoption or purchase. Paulette would also have to demonstrate that Dewey has unlawfully withheld Rufus from Paulette. 

I know what you’re thinking: once she files the complaint, is Paulette required to wait for ages while the court determines that Rufus legally should be home with her? Nope! Paulette could immediately make a motion for prejudgment seizure. In order to obtain an Order of Seizure, Paulette would have to move pursuant to CPLR § 7101 for said Order, supply an affidavit clearly setting forth the facts upon which Paulette bases her entitlement to Rufus, as well clearly identify Rufus (in case there’s another bulldog at the trailer, for example). Paulette, as the plaintiff, would also have to demonstrate that she has met all of the detailed requirements set forth in CPLR §§ 7102(c) and (d)(1). That includes  posting a bond in the amount of Rufus’ value, and explaining why  it is probable that Paulette will succeed on the merits, in other words, prevail. Obviously, Paulette must also put Dewey on notice that she is making this motion. (There is a way to make the motion without notice, but I’ve already digressed enough.) If Paulette shoulders this burden, the court is well within its discretion to grant an Order of Seizure. 

Dewey can oppose Paulette’s motion for prejudgment seizure by interposing defenses.  In so doing, should Dewey assert a superior claim to Rufus, he could defeat the provisional remedy that Paulette seeks. Dewey may also seek to reclaim Rufus via CPLR § 7103. But, Dewey doesn’t seem to be a successful man based on his appearance and poor personal hygiene, so I doubt he’d make many motions. 

So long as Paulette can legally demonstrate that Rufus is indeed her personal property, she’ll be able to keep him forever and ever and throw him a birthday party each year for the rest of his life. What, like it’s hard?

When a Smart TV Manufacturer is Stupid: Dua Lipa v. Samsung

By Emily Poler

In an era where a lot of people have a problem taking responsibility — or, as is more weirdly said nowadays, “accountability” — for their actions and mistakes, institutions and large corporations are no different. Witness Samsung’s shrug of a response to a complaint filed against it earlier this month by pop star Dua Lipa, which essentially boils down to “someone told us what we were doing was OK.” 

It’s a pretty simple suit. The Seoul-based electronics manufacturer and its US subsidiary has been selling televisions in boxes adorned with this image of the English entertainer: 

According to Ms. Lipa’s complaint, filed in California this month, the photo was taken backstage at the 2024 Austin City Limits Festival and shared in this post on her official Instagram account. The complaint further says that Dua Lipa has a registered copyright in the image, and thus asserts copyright and trademark infringement claims against Samsung, along with violation of Dua Lipa’s right of publicity.

The copyright claims are based on Samsung’s use of a copyrighted image without permission. The trademark claims are based on assertions that, by using her image to market televisions, Samsung is implying that she is endorsing its products. The right of publicity claims are based on Samsung’s use of her extremely valuable image in a commercial setting without permission.

Does this really matter? Well, according to Lipa’s team, shortly after the box appeared her fans began calling it the “Dua Lipa TV Box” on their socials, and the lawsuit cites specific Instagram comments like one user saying they would “get that TV just because Dua is on it,” and “if you need anything selling just put a picture of Dua Lipa on it.”

So yeah, it matters. Naturally, as with any modern celebrity, Ms. Lipa has legitimate sponsorship agreements with brands like Puma, Versace, and Yves Saint Laurent. She does not work with Samsung, and it seems obvious that someone in Dua Lipa’s organization would be aware of whether she gave anyone permission to use her photo on their product packaging.

The complaint goes on to say that Dua Lipa’s lawyers approached Samsung about trying to resolve this matter and Samsung refused, ignoring “repeated demands” to “cease and desist from infringing on her rights.” In other words, shrug, because hey, sue me.

Samsung did eventually issue a statement, saying the photo was “originally provided by a content partner for our free streaming service Samsung TV Plus. The image was used only after receiving explicit assurance from the content partner that permission had been secured, including for the retail boxes. Given this assurance, we deny any allegations of intentional misuse.” So far Samsung has not named that third-party “content partner.”

In my view this is not a great defense. Notably, Samsung doesn’t say “oh, hey, we have this written agreement that lets us use this image.” Nor does it say, “once we found out there was an issue we immediately took steps to correct this problem.” Rather, this sounds an awful lot like a teenager saying, “gosh, my friend’s parents told me I could!” when caught doing something they weren’t supposed to do. (Also, I have a teenager at home, so maybe I’m just seeing everything in terms of how a modern kid might see the world.) 

Samsung’s statement goes on: “We have actively sought and remain open to a constructive resolution with Ms. Lipa’s team.” Here’s a suggestion for a constructive resolution: take the darn picture off the boxes when asked instead of (allegedly) ignoring her requests to do so and then claiming you have been assured you have the rights to use the image. Seems simple, no?

All that said, Samsung hasn’t formally answered the complaint yet, so it will be interesting to see what it says when they do. Unless it can explain exactly how it has rights to use the photo at issue, I don’t see this getting a whole lot better for the company, especially because at least some of Dua Lipa’s claims allow her to shift her attorneys’ fees onto Samsung if she prevails, on top of the $15 million her suit is seeking.

But hey, I guess a multinational giant like Samsung can just shrug that off, too.

Truth and Justice on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown

By Emily Poler

A couple of weeks ago I started to write this post about the latest Serial podcast, which is titled The Idiot and narrated by New York Times opinion columnist M. Gessen. My aim was to use the story of Gessen’s cousin Allen, who was convicted of ordering a hit on his ex-wife, as a jumping-off point for talking about getting clients to face hard truths. I couldn’t quite finish what I was writing though; something just didn’t feel right. 

As I sat on it, I listened to a discussion of prediction markets — platforms where participants can buy and sell shares based on their beliefs of the outcomes of future events — and whether these markets will be significantly regulated by the federal government (my prediction: no). While mulling that over, I realized what I wanted to write about was actually truth, justice, and the “American Way.” Or at least the values and rules that have traditionally underpinned those ideals. 

As anyone who reads this blog with any regularity knows, I’m a litigator. That means I have regular interactions with the courts. It also means I spend a lot of time thinking about what’s fair and, while I don’t use this word in daily parlance, what’s just.

I’ve been pondering this a lot more lately because, simply put, it feels like the wheels are coming off the bus. Increasingly, attorneys and their clients are behaving badly, flouting court rules, pursuing arguments that contradict established precedent, and prosecuting opponents with accusations so bizarre and trivial as to seem insane. (If a client tries to involve me in anything like this, I tell them they need to find another lawyer.) Thankfully, in many cases judges and juries continue to do great work rejecting and even condemning such actions. 

Or maybe it just seems like things are going in the wrong direction because of a certain person with a very loud megaphone who is pushing, for example, the second prosecution of former FBI Director James Comey for posting a photo on Instagram of the numbers “86 47” spelled out in seashells that he saw on a beach; the Trump administration claims that constitutes a threat against the president. Is it a coincidence that Comey led the initial investigation into Trump’s alleged collusion with Russia during the 2016 election? 

The problem here is that as established rules are attacked and perverted, people start to believe that not only can they get away with anything, but that they are right to do so. Everybody else is doing it, so why not me? Look at the case of the Fort Bragg soldier who was involved in the planning of the U.S. military operation to capture Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro, and allegedly used his (obviously) classified information to bet on its timing in a prediction market and profit to the tune of more than $400,000. 

And, circling back to The Idiot podcast, M. Gessen’s cousin Allen continues to vigorously deny hiring an assassin through an intermediary (actually an undercover FBI agent) to murder his ex-wife despite overwhelming evidence, including recordings of the hiring discussions, that that’s exactly what he did. Why do these people think they can get away with these illegal, immoral and disgusting actions? Because they believe they’re right to do so. That’s what we call delusion, a condition that seems to be on the rise and that no pharmaceutical company can create a drug to combat. 

Getting back to what I’ve seen happening in courtrooms over the past few years, I’m not decrying lawyers advocating zealously on behalf of their clients, which we’re all supposed to do. Nor am I condemning attorneys for sometimes missing a deadline or making an honest oversight. What I’m talking about are people playing really fast and loose with the law or the facts. 

This has always bothered me. I have a pretty strong sense of what’s right and what’s wrong, and I find it upsetting when people aren’t treated fairly and don’t behave toward others in a way that is equitable. And, while I certainly understand and acknowledge that there are often grey areas, I think (or I’d like to think) that most lawyers are also motivated, at least in part, by the idea of making sure things are fair. Now, though, when we’re barraged with pretty much daily examples of people and attorneys flouting the rules in really grotesque ways, I’m more troubled than ever.  

Do these little transgressions matter? YES. In some ways, the legal system is a giant trust exercise, kind of like crossing the street in midtown. It only works because cars don’t go when there is a red light. In the case of the court system, it means you follow the rules: When you lose a case, you pay the amount the court says you owe, or when a court tells you to do something, you don’t do something else (or nothing at all). If rules and rulings are ignored, the system will slowly start to break down, and eventually stop working entirely. And while the consequences of that would be significant for an individual attorney like me, that’s nothing compared to what it will do to our society and every person in it. 

That’s today’s rant. I’m curious to know if other attorneys have similar feelings (I can’t believe it’s just me). Let me know what you think!

What Is the Prima Facie Tort Doctrine?

By Laura Trachtman

Normally, I write about legal issues that I’m dealing with in my own practice, because it’s convenient and interesting for me. Today, however, I’ve got a bee in my bonnet about the prima facie tort doctrine. 

To start, what is a prima facie tort? I’m so glad you asked! This doctrine provides a remedy for intentional harm caused by otherwise lawful conduct when no other traditional tort applies. In other words, the prima facie tort steps in when a defendant’s malicious intent transforms lawful acts into actionable wrongs and the defendant’s conduct is inexcusable or unjustifiable. 

To clarify that weighty definition, let’s explore the history of prima facie tort   and the limitations on the cause of action. 

History of the Prima Facie Tort

The U.S. Supreme Court case of Aikens v. Wisconsin, 195 U.S. 194, 204, 25 S.Ct. 3, 5, 49 L.Ed. 154 (1904), which was authored by Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, is arguably the most famous case addressing prima facie tort (if only because of its author). Holmes stated in pertinent part: “Prima facie, the intentional infliction of temporal damage is a cause of action, which, as a matter of substantive law …  requires a justification if the defendant is to escape.” 

The New York Court of Appeals in Curiano v. Suozzi, 63 N.Y.2d 113, 117, 469 N.E.2d 1324, 1327 (1984) provided additional illumination:  

Some years ago, this court recognized the general principle that harm intentionally inflicted is prima facie actionable unless justified (see Advance Music Corp. v. American Tobacco Co., 296 N.Y. 79, 70 N.E.2d 401; American Guild of Musical Artists v. Petrillo, 286 N.Y. 226, 36 N.E.2d 123; Opera on Tour v. Weber, 285 N.Y. 348, 34 N.E.2d 349, cert. den. 314 U.S. 615, 62 S.Ct. 96, 86 L.Ed. 495). That principle has developed into the specific cause of action of prima facie tort consisting of four elements: (1) intentional infliction of harm, (2) causing special damages, (3) without excuse or justification, (4) by an act or series of acts that would otherwise be lawful (Burns Jackson Miller Summit & Spitzer v. Lindner, 59 N.Y.2d 314, 332, 464 N.Y.S.2d 712, 451 N.E.2d 459; ATI, Inc. v. Ruder & Finn, 42 N.Y.2d 454, 458, 398 N.Y.S.2d 864, 368 N.E.2d 1230). While prima facie tort may be pleaded in the alternative with a traditional tort, once a traditional tort is established, the cause of action for prima facie tort disappears (Board of Educ. v. Farmingdale Classroom Teachers Assn., 38 N.Y.2d 397, 406, 380 N.Y.S.2d 635, 343 N.E.2d 278, supra).

This decision is very helpful, as it provides three important takeaways: (a) a clear explanation of the prima facie cause of action; (b) a description of the requisite elements to demonstrate entitlement to relief; and (c) an incredibly important limitation on the pleading of the cause of action. 

Limitations on the Cause of Action

In case you missed it above, there is an important limitation on prima facie tort when it is pled in the alternative: a claim grounded in prima facie tort cannot be maintained if the primary cause of action is established. This makes sense, because a cause of action for prima facie tort can only be maintained in the absence of another tort. Of course, if that other cause of action isn’t established, then it’s a good thing you pled prima facie tort so the defendant doesn’t get away with bad conduct. 

Another limitation on the claim is that the motivation for the actions which form the foundation for the prima facie tort must be malice, and nothing else. By way of example, “a claim for prima facie tort cannot be sustained where the plaintiff is alleged to be motivated by profit as well as malicious intent” Squire Records, Inc. v. Vanguard Rec. Socy., Inc., 25 AD2d 190, 191 (1st Dept 1966). That also makes sense, because the intent to harm another itself is the entire justification for the cause of action. If the defendant can provide another reason to explain away the action – greed, jealousy, or what have you – then it’s not a prima facie tort. 

In this cause of action, you must also plead special damages. What are special damages, you ask? Great question! Luckily, we get an assist from the Second Department in Shahid v. Slochowsky & Slochowsky, LLP, 208 A.D.3d 1381 (2022), which held in pertinent part: “Special damages ‘must be alleged with sufficient particularity to identify actual losses and be related causally to the alleged tortious acts’ [internal citations omitted]. Here, the plaintiff failed to demonstrate that any losses he allegedly suffered were causally related to an act or series of acts on the part of the defendants.” In other words, a plaintiff must be able to demonstrate that she actually suffered damages (lost money, for example) and that the reason for that loss is/are the action(s) of the defendant. 

So, What’s the Point? 

The purpose of prima facie tort is to provide an avenue for redress in situations where someone is motivated purely and solely by malice; the harm that they do to another should not go unpunished. The problem is that humans are complicated beings and rarely have only one motivation for  doing something. That makes successful prima facie tort claims exceedingly rare. Only about 4% of such claims involve intentional torts; and prima facie tort is just a tiny subset of that. Still, when I need a little reassurance that the legal system does occasionally ensure that evil people will be punished for hurting others, the very existence of this cause of action gives me comfort.