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Trademarks

Who Owns “Hot Girls Read”? What the Trademark Wars Mean for Small Businesses and Influencers

A trademark protects a brand, not a viral phrase — so those registrations are almost always weak.
Elena Oleynikova
July 20, 2026
Disclaimer
This information is for general purposes only and does not constitute legal advice. No attorney-client relationship is formed. We make no warranties regarding accuracy. Consult a qualified attorney for legal advice.

June 2026, an online shop called Allie Rose Co. announced that it had registered “Hot Girls Read” as a federal trademark and asked every other small business selling stickers, bookmarks, and sweatshirts with that phrase to pull their listings “as soon as possible … with love.“ The bookish internet did not receive the love. Within days, people were posting screenshots of the phrase in use going back to 2009, a romance author published an essay titled “Hot Girls Don't Weaponize Trademarks Against Small Businesses,” and the shop owner surrendered the registration and posted a tearful apology.

Around the same time, the founder of “Hot Girl Walk” — trademarked since 2023 — was drawing similar heat. One fitness creator says she hosted a free community walking event, watched her promotional posts get suppressed, and then had her Instagram account deleted for “copyright infringement“ after using a phrase millions of people say every day.

These stories went viral as drama. But underneath the drama is a genuine and widely misunderstood area of law. If you sell anything — a T-shirt, a digital download, a service — you should understand what a trademark actually gives its owner, because the gap between what these registrations say and what they do is enormous. This piece walks through that gap.

A Trademark Is Not Ownership Of A Phrase

The single most important thing to understand is this: a trademark does not give you the words. It gives you a brand. A trademark is a source identifier. Its entire legal purpose is to tell a consumer, “goods with this label come from this particular seller.” That's it. The law protects trademarks so that when you buy a can labeled Coca-Cola, you know who made it. It does not exist to let anyone fence off a chunk of the English language. So when someone says “I trademarked 'Hot Girls Read,'” the accurate translation is narrower than it sounds. At most, they have registered a specific phrase, for a specific list of goods (say, bookmarks and sweatshirts), in specific trademark classes, as a brand name for their products. They have not acquired the phrase itself. They cannot stop you from saying it, printing it in a book, putting it in a caption, or — critically — using it in a way that doesn't create confusion about who made your product.

Two consequences follow immediately, and both cut against the person waving the registration around. First, rights are limited to the goods and services actually listed. A registration for bookmarks and T-shirts says nothing about mugs, tote bags, phone cases, or a walking-club membership. Trademark rights don't radiate outward to cover an entire vibe. Second, and more fundamentally, many of these phrases are legally weak — sometimes weak enough that the registration never should have issued, or won't survive a challenge.

“Why 'Hot Girls Read' Is a Weak Mark”

Trademark strength is not a vibe; it is a legal classification. The governing framework comes from Abercrombie & Fitch Co. v. Hunting World, Inc., 537 F.2d 4 (2d Cir. 1976), which arranges marks along a spectrum of distinctiveness. Fanciful marks (invented words like Kodak or Exxon) and arbitrary marks (real words used for unrelated goods, like Apple for computers) are inherently distinctive and get the strongest protection. Suggestive marks, which require a mental leap to connect the term to the product, are also inherently distinctive. Descriptive marks are protected only on proof of acquired distinctiveness, and generic terms can never be trademarks at all. A commonplace expression printed across the front of a shirt sits at the weak end of that spectrum — and often falls off it entirely. Four doctrines explain why, and each one is a distinct ground of refusal or cancellation.

Failure To Function

This is the doctrine doing the most work in recent USPTO practice, and it is fatal to most viral-phrase registrations. A term “fails to function“ when consumers perceive it as an ordinary message rather than an indicator of a single commercial source. The Federal Circuit crystallized this in In re GO & Associates, LLC, 90 F.4th 1354 (Fed. Cir. 2024), affirming the refusal of EVERYBODY VS RACISM for apparel and tote bags: because the phrase was already widely used by many people and organizations to convey a sentiment, it could not simultaneously signal that one company was the source of the goods. The TMEP codifies this as the “widely used messages” rule (TMEP § 1202.04(b)) — slogans and phrases in common circulation to express familiar concepts do not function as marks. “Hot Girls Read,” documented in public use for well over a decade, is a textbook widely-used message. The more popular the phrase, the weaker, not stronger, the claim to own it.

Ornamental Refusal

A related and independent bar specific to apparel and merchandise. When a phrase is splashed decoratively across the chest of a T-shirt, the USPTO refuses it as ”merely ornamental” — a decorative feature rather than a source indicator. The leading case is D.C. One Wholesaler, Inc. v. Chien, 120 USPQ2d 1710 (TTAB 2016), which refused “I ♥ DC” because ”the marketplace is awash in products” bearing the phrase; consumers buy it for what it says, not to identify a manufacturer, and even placing it on a hangtag did not save it. Buyers of a ”Hot Girls Read” sweatshirt are buying the sentiment, not signaling that Allie Rose Co. made the garment.

Descriptiveness And Secondary Meaning

Even where a phrase escapes the two doctrines above, if it merely describes the goods or the buyer it can be registered only on proof of ”secondary meaning” — evidence, usually built through years of substantially exclusive use, advertising spend, and consumer recognition, that the public now associates the phrase with one seller. Section 2(f) of the Lanham Act treats five years of substantially exclusive use as prima facie evidence, but that word ”exclusive” is the problem: a phrase that dozens of shops used simultaneously is close to the definition of a term that never became exclusively anyone's.

The Line Is Real, Not Hopeless

Not every catchphrase is doomed, which is why analysis matters more than slogans. In In re Lizzo LLC (TTAB 2023, precedential), the Board reversed a failure-to-function refusal of 100% THAT BITCH for apparel, finding that although the phrase came from a song lyric, the record showed consumers connected it specifically to Lizzo as a source. The lesson is that distinctiveness turns on how the public actually perceives the term — and a phrase already saturating a crowded marketplace, used by countless independent sellers, is exactly the fact pattern that fails.

Put together, a registration for a viral catchphrase is often a house built on sand. It can be opposed before it registers under 15 U.S.C. § 1063, and petitioned for cancellation after under § 1064 — including on grounds that it never functioned as a mark, that it is generic, that it is merely descriptive without secondary meaning, or that the applicant was not the first or exclusive user.

Registration Is Not the Same as Being Right

The viral ”I trademarked it” announcement leans on an implied authority that the certificate doesn't actually carry. Under 15 U.S.C. § 1057(b), a registration is prima facie evidence of the mark's validity, the registrant's ownership, and the exclusive right to use it — but each of those is a rebuttable presumption, not a conclusive fact. It shifts burdens in litigation; it does not adjudicate the world's prior usage. Examining attorneys search USPTO records, not every Etsy listing and Instagram caption going back a decade, so vulnerable marks routinely issue.

There is a further limit people conflate: even ”incontestable” status is not bulletproof. After five years of continuous use, an owner can file under § 1065 to make a registration incontestable, which cuts off certain challenges. But incontestability never immunizes a mark against genericness (§ 1065 and § 1064(3)), and the Supreme Court confirmed in Park 'N Fly, Inc. v. Dollar Park & Fly, Inc., 469 U.S. 189 (1985), that incontestable status still coexists with the statutory defenses — including fair use. A mark can be locked in as ”incontestable” and still lose to a defendant who was using the words descriptively. And there is a strategic reality the “Hot Girls Read” episode illustrates perfectly: aggressive enforcement can destroy the very right it is trying to protect. Sending mass demands to legitimate prior users manufactures a roster of motivated challengers and hands them the evidence — widespread third-party use — that supports a failure-to-function or genericness attack. It also invites what courts and commentators call “trademark bullying”: asserting rights well beyond the mark's actual scope to intimidate smaller parties. Even where a registration is valid for the owner's own branded goods, reaching against unrelated goods or non-confusing uses is frequently baseless, and it can expose the owner to fee-shifting in “exceptional” cases under § 1117(a).

The Infringement Test The Demand Letters Skip

Owning a valid trademark does not make anyone else's use of the words infringement. Infringement under 15 U.S.C. § 1114 (registered marks) and § 1125(a) (unregistered) turns on a single question: likelihood of confusion — would an ordinary consumer likely be confused into believing the owner made, sponsored, or endorsed the defendant's product? Courts apply a multi-factor balancing test that varies by circuit but tracks the same considerations: the Polaroid factors in the Second Circuit (Polaroid Corp. v. Polarad Elecs. Corp., 287 F.2d 492 (2d Cir. 1961)), the Sleekcraft factors in the Ninth (AMF Inc. v. Sleekcraft Boats, 599 F.2d 341 (9th Cir. 1979)), and the DuPont factors before the USPTO (In re E.I. du Pont de Nemours & Co., 476 F.2d 1357 (CCPA 1973)). The recurring elements are the strength of the senior mark, the similarity of the marks, the proximity of the goods, evidence of actual confusion, the defendant's intent, and the sophistication of buyers.

Two of those factors decide most viral-phrase disputes. First, strength: a weak, descriptive, widely used mark occupies a narrow scope, so even modest differences in wording, design, or context defeat confusion. Second, proximity of the goods: a free community walking event does not compete with a branded merchandise-and-events business in any way that would confuse a consumer about who is the source. Enforcement letters routinely ignore both, treating any appearance of the words as a violation. It isn't.

Layered on top, the Lanham Act supplies two affirmative defenses that exist precisely for this situation.

Descriptive (classic) fair use, at § 1115(b)(4), protects the use of ordinary words in their ordinary descriptive sense — even words that appear in someone's mark — where the words are used (1) other than as a mark, (2) fairly and in good faith, and (3) descriptively. Crucially, the Supreme Court held in KP Permanent Make-Up, Inc. v. Lasting Impression I, Inc., 543 U.S. 111 (2004), that a fair-use defendant does not bear the burden of negating confusion; some consumer confusion is compatible with fair use. That allocation of proof is a powerful shield for a small seller describing what their product is or who it is for.

Nominative fair use protects using a mark to refer to the owner or its products — for commentary, criticism, comparison, reporting, or parody — where the owner is not readily identifiable without the mark, no more of the mark is used than necessary, and nothing suggests sponsorship (New Kids on the Block v. News Am. Publ'g, Inc., 971 F.2d 302 (9th Cir. 1992)). This is the doctrine that protects everyone publicly criticizing “Hot Girl Walk” by name. None of this means ”use whatever you want.” It means the analysis is far more limited, fact-specific, and defense-friendly than a blanket “take it down, it's mine” demand implies.

How A Weak Registration Gets Unwound

If a shaky mark issues, the story is not over — the Lanham Act builds in several mechanisms to correct the register, and a small business on the receiving end of a demand letter has more leverage than it usually realizes.

Before registration, any party who believes it would be damaged can file a notice of opposition within the publication window under § 1063. After registration, a petition to cancel under § 1064 is available — within five years on most grounds (descriptiveness, ornamentality, likelihood of confusion with a senior user), and at any time on grounds that never expire: that the mark has become generic, has been abandoned, or fails to function as a source identifier. A senior user with dated proof of earlier use can also assert priority; U.S. rights flow from use in commerce, not merely from a registration certificate, so the first genuine commercial user generally outranks a later registrant.

Genericide deserves special mention because it is the ultimate risk of over-claiming a popular term. Marks that once identified a single source have been cancelled after the public adopted them as the ordinary name for the product itself — aspirin, escalator, thermos, and cellophane are the classic casualties. A registrant who insists that everyone is using “their” phrase is, ironically, describing the very condition that dissolves the right.

Even short of formal proceedings, a well-drafted response to a cease-and-desist — citing the goods actually covered, documented prior use, and the fair-use posture of the recipient's use — frequently ends the matter, because the sender's counsel recognizes that pressing forward risks the registration itself.

The Platform Problem: Copyright ≠ Trademark

One thread in these stories deserves special attention because it trips up almost everyone. When the fitness creator's Instagram account was deleted for “copyright infringement,” that label was almost certainly wrong as a matter of law — and the confusion is instructive. Copyright and trademark are different systems. Copyright protects original creative works — writing, music, images. Short phrases and slogans are not copyrightable. You cannot own “Hot Girl Walk” through copyright at all. The DMCA takedown process, which platforms are built around, is a copyright mechanism. So a takedown framed as copyright infringement over a three-word phrase is resting on the wrong body of law entirely.

The deeper issue is that platforms over-enforce. Automated systems and trademark-complaint programs act on notices without adjudicating whether the underlying claim is actually valid, and the burden of pushing back falls on the accused party — who often loses followers, listings, or an entire account before anything is sorted out. Understanding which legal system a complaint really invokes is the first step to filing an effective counter-notice or appeal.

Practical Guidance For Creators And Small Shops

If you receive a cease-and-desist over a common phrase, don't panic and don't assume the sender is right. Note exactly what goods the registration actually covers, whether your use is even in that lane, and whether your use is as a brand or merely descriptive or decorative. A short, calm response — or a consultation with an IP attorney — often ends the matter, because the sender frequently has no real claim against you. Document your own prior use. Dated posts, listings, and sales records establishing that you used a phrase before someone else registered it can make you a senior user and a serious problem for their registration.

If a phrase genuinely became your brand and you want to register it, do it properly: use it as a source identifier (on tags and packaging, not just splashed across the front), be honest about pre-existing public use, and expect that truly common expressions may draw a failure-to-function or ornamental refusal. Building a distinctive logo or brand name around the phrase is far more defensible than trying to fence off the words themselves. And whatever you own, enforce it proportionately. Mass demands against every prior user of a popular saying are how you turn a customer base into a mob and a shaky registration into a cancelled one.

The Bigger Picture

The “hot girl” trademark wars feel like an internet spat, but they're a clean illustration of a principle worth internalizing: trademark law protects brands, not language. The system is designed to keep common words and everyday expressions available to everyone precisely so that no single seller can tax the culture. When someone tries to privatize a shared phrase, the law — through failure-to-function refusals, ornamentality, the narrowness of confusion analysis, and fair-use defenses — usually has more tools to stop them than they have to enforce it. The community backlash got there first this time. But you shouldn't have to rely on going viral. Knowing what a trademark actually covers is the difference between being intimidated by a demand letter and recognizing it for what it often is: a claim that sounds far bigger than the law behind it.

Thinking About Protecting Your Own Brand?

There's a difference between fencing off a common phrase and building a mark that actually holds up — a distinctive brand name, a logo, a source identifier you use the right way. That's where registration is worth doing, and worth doing carefully: clearing the mark against prior use, choosing the right classes, and filing so it survives a challenge instead of collapsing at the first pushback.

On Skala, you can register your trademark — and we'll help you do it right. From a knock-out search to the application and responding to office actions, we handle the parts that trip up small businesses and creators, so the mark you build is one you can actually stand behind.