Anna Delvey, known to the world by her infamous alias, has returned to the spotlight not just as a con artist but now as a brand in her own right. The aspiring socialite, whose real name is Anna Sorokin, made waves in the media decades ago when she swindled her way through New York’s elite circles. Now, she finds herself embroiled in a new form of conflict—one that navigates the murky waters of intellectual property rights and branding, as she confronts the retail giant Walmart for unauthorized use of her trademarked name and image.
After being released from prison, where she served time for multiple counts of theft and grand larceny, Delvey has sought to establish herself in the fashion industry. She took proactive steps by trademarking her name and likeness through the formation of Anna Delvey LLC, right before her release. This strategic move positions her as more than just a notorious figure; she has effectively reinvented herself as a brand, capitalizing on the very notoriety that once led her astray.
The trademark was officially registered on September 3, 2022, a mere month before her release, and it encompasses a variety of clothing items, including dresses, hoodies, and hats. This indicates a clear intent to exploit her newfound freedom and public interest to create a commercially viable persona. The uniqueness of her situation lays in how she is leveraging the brand of being both an influencer and a cautionary tale, providing her substantial marketable material.
Recently, Delvey learned that Walmart began marketing its own line of apparel under her name. Items featured on the retail giant’s website included T-shirts and hoodies emblazoned with “Anna Delvey,” which Delvey’s legal team quickly categorized as a severe violation of her trademark rights. In a cease-and-desist letter drafted by her attorney, Duncan Levin, the seriousness of the situation was conveyed as he condemned Walmart’s actions as an “egregious infringement” on Delvey’s brand.
Levin’s argument was steeped in a sense of urgency and protection for his client’s newly minted brand image. He highlighted that it could potentially tarnish the reputation Delvey has carefully crafted since her release, making it imperative that Walmart withdraw its products from sale immediately. This scenario illustrates the broader issue of how high-profile individuals can navigate intellectual property rights while wrestling with their past actions.
This incident is more than a simple trademark dispute; it underscores the complexities of branding in the age of social media and celebrity culture. Delvey is not just defending a trademark; she is safeguarding a constructed identity. Her ability to transition from a convicted fraudster to a harnessing entrepreneur speaks volumes to the nature of personal branding. In a world where scandal can lead to fame, the question arises: how do we define legitimacy in branding when the roots are steeped in deception?
Delvey’s case brings forth the paradox of fame—where notoriety can be a selling point rather than a setback. By actively engaging in legal battles, she is asserting her control over how she wishes to be perceived, operating under the premise that everyone deserves a second chance or, at the very least, an opportunity to profit from their own narrative.
As legal tussles continue to unfold, Delvey remains at the center of a captivating narrative about identity, crime, and redemption. With her cease-and-desist order sent to Walmart, she gears up for what could be a drawn-out legal battle over the rights to her name and image. As with many modern-day tales of public personas, the implications stretch beyond mere legal ramifications and delve deeper into the psyche of branding, morality, and the price of infamy.
In this ever-evolving story, what remains clear is that Anna Delvey, once a figure encircled by scandal, now stands tall as a brand—both eager and ready to claim her space in the fashion world while fiercely defending her right to do so.