By Yixian Chen, Partner – Intellectual Property
The recent first-instance decision in Louis Vuitton v. Molly Tea (茉莉奶白) by the Suzhou Intermediate People’s Court, has sparked significant discussion and controversy regarding intellectual property rights in China and beyond. The court found infringement arising from Molly Tea’s adoption and use of a four-petal floral motif that it considered sufficiently similar to one of the floral design elements incorporated into Louis Vuitton’s well-known composite monogram pattern and several of its registered trademarks in China. Much of the public conversation has centred on a compelling question:
Can a global luxury brand claim exclusive rights over a flower design that appears to have its origins in traditional Chinese motifs such as 宝相花 (baoxiang flower) and 柿蒂纹 (persimmon-calyx motif)?
At the time of writing, the written reasons for the first-instance decision do not appear to be publicly available, and Molly Tea has already indicated that it intends to appeal. Any commentary must therefore be understood from this perspective.
One of the more interesting perspectives was from an article published in Procuratorate Daily (《检察日报》) by China’s Supreme People’s Procuratorate (最高人民检察院) titled “Why was the thousand-year-old baoxiang flower “reverse harvested” by LV?” (《千年宝相花，为何被LV反向收割？》) discussing the broader implications of the case. One observation that was particularly insightful is that the public debate and the legal analysis are not always asking the same question.
There is a genuine policy question about whether traditional cultural motifs deserve stronger defensive protection against adoption by commercial brands for exclusive commercial purposes. Public interest in shared cultural experience and historical resources could gradually be eroded in favour of private enterprises usurping culturally significant symbols through private trademark rights.
The countervailing argument would be that trademark law generally does not protect an abstract flower, star or traditional pattern, but rather recognizes rights in a symbol that has been created using a traditional cultural motif only as inspiration, and this creative adaptation, long-term use and consumer recognition has developed a secondary meaning that has come to identify a particular commercial source.
The competing interests of private brand owners in protecting their artistic works and commercial symbols versus the public interest in preserving cultural motifs as a shared artistic resource are potentially incapable of being reconciled. Cultural appropriation has been a lightning rod for public protests centered on the use of exquisite historical artistry that has been converted into commercial symbols by international brands. The brand owners are typically able to assert their significant financial clout and intellectual property rights by employing trademark lawyers in many jurisdictions, even if each legal system approaches these questions differently. Arguments about cultural appropriation and the protection of the body of work of historical artistry are no match for industry. However, on occasion, public sentiment can swing in favour of artists and cultural treasures in a way that can significantly damage brand value and create a firestorm of criticism. This case threatens to enter that space as Molly Tea adopts the role of David in standing against LVMH’s Goliath.
This leads one to wonder how this dispute might be treated in Canada. Would we likely see the same result?
While it is always difficult to divine how a Court may rule in a trademark dispute because these cases are fact-driven, there is ample precedent for similar disputes that have made their way to Canada’s top court. The Supreme Court of Canada’s 2007 decisions in Mattel and Veuve Clicquot both involved famous brands seeking to prevent the use of similar marks in entirely different industries. In both cases, the famous brand owners were denied any relief on the basis that the famous champagne house VEUVE CLIQUOT and a low-brow women’s clothing boutique were “as different as chalk and cheese”, thus avoiding any confusion or false association. Similarly, BARBIE was found to be capable of distinguishing a Montreal barbecue restaurant without infringing Mattel’s trademarks for its iconic doll.
The takeaway, however, is not that famous marks should only receive a narrow scope of protection. Rather, the Supreme Court emphasized that fame alone does not answer the question of whether there is likely confusion or damage to goodwill and reputation. Whether consumers are likely to be confused remains a contextual, evidence-based inquiry, which is not eclipsed by any trademark, no matter how famous.
The Supreme Court of Canada’s observations from 2007 feel significantly less relevant today. Modern consumers are increasingly accustomed to luxury brands extending into hospitality, cafés, restaurants, beauty, lifestyle products and experiential retail. Industry channels are converging on the Internet, and differences in origin or core business may therefore carry less weight where an earlier mark has developed a particularly broad commercial aura or footprint. The Supreme Court may yet be forced to revisit its earlier rulings on this subject if the case of LVMH v. Molly Tea makes its way to its doorstep in Canada, and there is no telling whether the precedents will fall in light of the evolution of the brand extensions we are witnessing today. The case will still be decided on its own factual matrix and strength of evidence presented.
In Mattel, the Supreme Court noted circumstances suggesting that the restaurant operator may have intentionally chosen the BARBIE name with reference to the Mattel trademark, because it first used signage and displays featuring the iconic BARBIE doll, but the Court dismissed this transgression as irrelevant, ultimately finding that mens rea was not part of the legal test for confusion.
Along a similar fact pattern, public reports in China suggest that Molly Tea had previously sought to register versions of its four-petal device, and had encountered objections based on Louis Vuitton’s earlier marks, yet continued using the branding commercially. If accurate, that history may be relevant factual context, but awareness alone does not determine infringement. The legal analysis still turns on resemblance, consumer perception, goodwill and marketplace context. For those familiar with Chinese trademark practice, however, these facts may also evoke the long-standing jurisprudence surrounding bad-faith trademark filings and trademark squatting, which have been recurring issues in China for many years. Canada now also recognizes a relatively new cause of action for bad faith registration, where this fact pattern would find relevance in determining if the alleged infringer was in the habit of adopting other parties’ marks in bad faith.
For businesses expanding internationally, they should not confine trademark clearance to a single class, a single jurisdiction or a side-by-side comparison of logos. Any proposed design that draws inspiration from cultural references may also create trademark risk because of the potential backlash against cultural appropriation and monopolizing cultural symbols could introduce a variable that the trademark adopter did not consider.
Perhaps the most interesting question is therefore no longer:
Who owns the flower?
But rather:
What does the flower mean to consumers and is anyone entitled to monopolize it?
For anyone interested in reading further (in Chinese), Yixian Chen attached screenshots of the article as originally published in Procuratorate Daily (《检察日报》) by China’s Supreme People’s Procuratorate (最高人民检察院) on her LinkedIn article, published on August 7th, 2026. The original webpage no longer appears to be publicly available, but we have included the original URL below for reference:
https://www.spp.gov.cn/spp/zdgz/202607/t20260708_731506.shtml
