I run a small bath and candle brand out of Austin. I pour in my garage. It smells like lavender most days, and sometimes burnt sugar when I mess up. Last spring, my sales fell off a cliff. Amazon had five listings that looked like my jars. Same label style. Same scent names. But the wax looked chalky. A friend sent me a screenshot and said, “Hey, is this you?” It wasn’t.
I felt sick. I felt mad. And I felt a little lost. So I hired a counterfeiting lawyer. Part of what pushed me over the edge was reading an in-depth post on Pretty Fakes titled “I Hired a Counterfeiting Lawyer for My Small Brand: What Actually Happened”, which mapped the process step by step and made it feel doable.
Why I even needed one
I tried the DIY stuff first. I reported the fake listings on Amazon. I filed forms on eBay. I sent a couple scary emails. Some sellers went quiet. Most did not. One even replied with a winky face. Cute.
Here’s the thing. I make soap. I don’t speak “legal.” I wanted a grown-up in the room. So I called a small IP firm in Texas that works with CPG brands. I found them through another maker at a local market. We chatted over Zoom. They asked for photos, my trademark papers, and proof that I sell the real thing.
What we did, step by step
This was the plan we ran. It wasn’t fancy, but it worked.
- We did “test buys.” The firm’s investigator ordered three candles from three different sellers. He kept the boxes and printed the emails. Chain of custody, he said. It just means you don’t mix up evidence.
- We compared the goods. The fakes had a weird perfume hit. The wick tabs were crooked. My batch codes were wrong. One label used my logo, but the font spacing was off.
- We filed fast takedowns. On Amazon Brand Registry, eBay VeRO, and Instagram. The lawyer wrote the notices. I signed them. The posts started falling within a week.
- We sent real letters. Cease-and-desist, with screenshots. Not mean, just firm. A few sellers pulled their pages the same day.
- We went to court for a fast order. This part scared me, but it was the big move. The firm filed for an ex parte TRO (a quick court order without telling the other side). It asked the court to freeze seller funds on PayPal and to pull search results that used my mark. We filed in federal court up in Chicago, which my lawyer said is common for cases with many online sellers.
- We told Customs. The firm recorded my trademark with U.S. Customs and Border Protection. It cost under two hundred bucks. A few months later, I got a notice that CBP held a box of “bath sets” with my mark at LAX. Wild.
Real-life moments that stuck with me
- The first test buy showed up in a thin box. The jar was greasy. When I lit the candle, it smelled like nail polish remover. My husband sniffed and stepped back. That was my “we can’t ignore this” moment.
- One seller tried to argue the label was “inspired.” My lawyer pulled up my 2021 trademark and an old Instagram post showing that label on a holiday drop. The seller folded in two hours.
- Amazon moved fast once we sent better photos. Close-up shots of my batch code, wicks, cap, and box seam helped. The checkbox that says “Counterfeit (uses my trademark on goods)” mattered. Once I stopped saying “copyright” and used “trademark,” the takedowns stuck.
- The court order hit on a Friday afternoon. On Monday, three PayPal accounts were frozen. A seller emailed me, asking to settle. I didn’t gloat. I just asked them to stop and sign.
What I liked about my lawyer
- Clear talk. He didn’t talk down to me. He said the legal word, then said the plain word.
- A playbook. Amazon, eBay, Instagram, Shopify, Alibaba. He knew which button to press on each site, and in what order.
- Docs that worked. Takedown letters with exact URLs and timestamps. Screenshots with the little clock in the corner. Sounds small, but platforms care.
- Follow-through. After the court order, he pushed the marketplaces to act faster. He also sent weekly status emails, even if there wasn’t big news.
What bugged me a bit
- The meter runs. Retainer was $5,000. Hourly was $450 for the partner, $265 for the associate. Test buys cost about $150 each. Filing fee was a bit over $400. It adds up fast if you’re not ready.
- Hurry up and wait. Some sellers vanish. Some pop back up with new names. It felt like whack-a-mole some weeks.
- Templates. A lot of the letters looked like they came from a bundle. They worked, so I didn’t push, but it felt a little… cookie-cutter.
- Public records. Court filings are public. A blog picked up the case docket. Not a big deal, but I wasn’t ready for that.
Time and results
From first call to first takedown: 10 days.
From filing to court order: just under 3 weeks.
By week 6, 80% of the fake listings were gone. We got asset restraints on a few accounts. Not life-changing money, but it paid for the fight. Counterfeiters sometimes think the worst they’ll face is a slap on the wrist, but actual jail time is real—just ask the person who got burned by passing fake cash.
I also saw fewer random messages asking, “Is this your store?” My real listings climbed back up. Customers said the new anti-counterfeit sticker on my lids helped. It’s just a tiny QR code that goes to my site. Simple, but people like it.
Tips if you’re dealing with fakes
- Keep receipts. Save your labels, batch codes, and photos of your real goods. Shoot them in good light. Close-ups help.
- Register your mark. If you can, file your trademark with the USPTO. It makes takedowns easier. If you have a logo and a word mark, even better. The USPTO’s online application is straightforward; you can start the paperwork right on their site here.
- Use the right words. On forms, pick “trademark counterfeit” for goods with your mark slapped on. “Copyright” is for photos, art, and text. For a plain-English overview of each step—from searching to publication—skim the USPTO’s official trademark process walkthrough.
- Do test buys. Keep the box, the label, and the email chain. Take video when you unbox.
- Record with Customs. It’s quick and cheap. Customs can stop bad shipments while you sleep.
- Set alerts. I use Google Alerts for my brand name, plus a reverse image search of my label once a month. Boring, but it works.
- Scout fringe classifieds. Counterfeiters love dumping knock-offs into local ad boards that clone the old Backpage layout—browse the Kalispell listings at Backpage Kalispell to get a feel for how unpoliced these markets are and to sharpen your radar for shady product posts.
- If you want a quick visual crash course on spotting knock-offs, the guides at Pretty Fakes deliver more than a law textbook in five minutes.
Feeling discouraged? Grab a quick morale boost from this rundown of six brands that fought fakes with trademarks—and won; seeing their playbook reminded me that even small teams can punch back. If you just need to step away for five minutes and laugh about anything other than counterfeit candles, sliding into an open chat room at GayChat can give you an instant, no-strings-attached dose of human connection and stress relief.
Was it worth it?
Yes. Not perfect, but yes. I got my pages back. I learned a system. And I sleep better. You know what? I also felt seen. Someone stood up with me.
Would I hire the same kind of lawyer again? If the problem is big, yes. If it’s just one random listing, I might try the platform forms first, then call if it sticks.
One last thing. I thought lawyers only sue. Turns out, mine spent more time in Google Sheets than in a courtroom. He tracked URLs, sellers, and status notes. That spreadsheet, not the fancy Latin words, won the week.
If you’re a maker, and your gut says, “This looks wrong,” trust it. Take photos. Save proof. Ask for help. And keep pouring. My garage still smells like lavender, and on good days, a little vanilla too.