When trademark infringement becomes a force for good

The NYU Costume Studies program’s
new exhibit “Gray Area; Authenticity, Value and Subversion in
Fashion” raises big questions in an industry now trembling under the beady
eyes of Diet Prada. While the accepted thinking is that bootlegs, riffs and
counterfeits should bring shame, and possible financial ruin, on any
opportunist encroaching on the intellectual copyright of our most beloved
brands, the definition of authenticity begins to blur when confronted with
many of the pieces that have been curated in this gallery setting.

Artist Stephanie Syjuco’s crochet Gucci purse, Peter Gronquist’s gold
Gucci chainsaw or Ava Nirui’s hooded sweatshirt emblazoned with the phrase,
“I Can’t Believe It’s Not Marc Jacobs” defy pronouncements of black and
white verdicts, especially when we consider that Marc Jacobs entered into
collaboration with Nirui after discovering her work, and Diet Prada sells
products emblazoned with the words Kim des Garçons, a parody of Japanese
avant garde label Comme des Garçons. Art and fashion have long enjoyed a
camaraderie, possibly fueled by tacit acknowledgement of their own self
importance, but what happens when the relationship sours? At the exhibit
opening, FashionUnited spoke to one creative whose experience deep in the
gray area has cost him thousands of dollars but put him dead center of a
necessary conversation.

Ari Forman, graphic designer, experiential marketer, and sneakerhead
became a wanted man after daring to address serious questions through the
medium of sneaker design. In 2006, convinced that the top brands like Nike
and Adidas could do more good with their power and inspired by Nigo and his
label A Bathing Ape which infused sneaker designer with wit, he designed a
limited run of his Menthol 10s, a sneaker whose design merged elements of
Newport cigarette packaging with the iconic Nike Air Force 1 silhouette.
Instead of the stars found on the Nike shoe’s front sole his Menthol 10s
had dollar signs, as well as an interior which featured a print of the
words Blah Blah Blah, a lining patterned like a cigarette filter, and a tag
containing the words: “This sneaker is dedicated to the two brands who have
taken the most and given the least. Thanks for the motivation…Now it’s OUR
turn!!!” Only then did he realize how advocating for conscious consumerism
over blind tribal acceptance has a price.

Tell us the story of the Menthol 10s

It’s so complicated that it’s boring. In short, it was a case study that
was an art project, talking about the hypocrisy that exists not only with
consumption, and perceived value, but in corporate responsibility. Every
corporation, like every person, has positive and negative, good and bad.
You can love brands and not love what they do. You can love the art
directors and the ads they create, but hate tobacco. You can love Nike for
its beautiful products, and how it fits your lifestyle, but also not like
their bad business practices or disingenuous marketing. In my family there
are smokers, drinkers and addicts which raises the same question: how do
you love someone when you hate things about them? We learn to look past
individuals’ faults and this is also true with regards to our relationships
with corporations. But we need to hold corporations accountable in ways
that we’re not going to hold people.

Why did you choose these two particular corporations to merge in this
piece of work?

The people behind Newport were a rich tobacco family from the 1700s who
became society folk in New York and were very philanthropic.The spinnaker
logo was established in the late 40s, early 50s. Nike came along in the
70s. Legally you cannot have competing marks unless you agree to have
competing marks. Newport didn’t object to Nike’s swoosh which looks like
the spinnaker inverted. So I said to myself, I’m going to do something
that’s going to make both of them object to me so that the three-way
argument could illustrate the hypocrisy around corporate responsibility.
They hold me to a standard they don’t hold themselves to. They’ll protect
their interests over the interests of humanity. This was a way to create a
discussion around anti-tobacco, corporate responsibility, perception of
value, and about comparing authenticity and what is an original idea.

What happened when both companies became aware of the existence of the
Menthol 10?

They both gave me cease-and-desist. Newport’s parent company, Lorillard,
like all big tobacco, has a settlement with the federal government
outlining the types of advertising they can’t do anymore which includes
targeting children. Their impression was that a sneaker appealed to kids
and so I was promoting tobacco, and their brand, to children, as well as
the fact that I was obviously infringing. They thought I should have carded
kids who bought the sneaker, considering it a tobacco-related promotional
product. I said no, it is anti-tobacco. I come from a family rocked by
cancer caused by smoking, and while this may appear pro, that’s how you
have to talk to people, deliver something eye-catching, then drop the
message behind it. You can’t come in as the enemy. It took years to develop
this case study and then bring it to market, with all the moving parts
coming together.

So your product hit the market?

Oh yeah, the sample run of 252 was manufactured––the boxes domestically
(they carried the message General Warning: Get Off The Brandwagon), the
sneaker in China. They sold out within an hour. Kids lined up for two days,
slept out to get them. Then Nike came in with their cease and desist––they
were great about it––but Lorillard said cease production, give us all you
have, we need to talk legal details, I’m not even allowed to own a digital
photo of the shoe.

Are you in breach of that now that the shoe is in an exhibition?

This is not mine. I’m not allowed to own it and I don’t. This is from
private collections. Over the years people have come to me, asked me to
sign something, but I’m not going to breach the arrangement. Talking about
it is blurry but basically I can’t profit from it. There’s no money
involved in dialogue and if anything I get to talk about what’s transpired
from then as tobacco use has further affected my family, and it moves the
dialogue down the road.

Would you say your story has echoes of Dapper Dan and his experience
with Gucci, another David and Goliath pairing?

Of course! Growing up, I came into my own with hip-hop in the 80s when I
co-owned a magazine called On The Go with a fellow controversial artist,
Steve Powers. It was published until 1997 and heavily featured hip-hop
culture and Dapper Dan. I’ve also designed logos and album covers within
the industry. When I lived in Philly, we had our own local Dapper Dan and
then we’d go to Atlantic City to get Gucci. Dapper Dan’s a legend. There
are two ways for brands to handle the situation and Gucci did it the best
way possible. There are many arguments around appropriation and taking
advantage but it’s not for us to decide, it’s for Dan to decide. He’s no
fool, he came through segregation and tough times so he’s not a man to sell
out. Gucci owed him and they did the right thing for each other, in my
opinion.

Are you proud to see your work turn up in a show like this?

I am. It’s been in some interesting situations over the years, in
various contexts. Nothing that has been this clinical, I would
say, but anything that has an educational component to it is exactly what I
set out to do. That’s all it ever was. Everyone sees something different,
some see this hip-hop thing, but it’s about the message. In every detail of
this shoe, there are messages, in the tongue, on the manufacturing tag,
about fake corporate credos and mission statements. So on the outside,
sneaker, on the inside, subversion.

Ari Saal Forman’s work is part of the exhibit which runs until February
2 at 80WSE Gallery, 80 Washington Square East, NYC.

Fashion editor Jackie Mallon is also an educator and author of Silk
for the Feed Dogs, a novel set in the international fashion
industry.

Images: FashionUnited, header image Aanchal Bakshi