When the memecoin $HAWK launched in December 2024, backed by viral internet star Haliey Welch (known more infamously as the “Hawk Tuah Girl”) it exploded with meme-fueled momentum. Within hours, it reached a market cap of nearly half a billion dollars. Within hours more, it crashed spectacularly, erasing over 90% of its value and burning thousands of retail investors in the process.
Welch avoided formal charges in the class action lawsuits that followed, but her brand didn’t come out unscathed.
Though she issued a public statement citing bot manipulation and pledged to “cooperate fully” with attorneys to assist affected investors, her involvement quickly became the latest case study in what can go wrong when celebrity brand monetization collides with crypto regulation.
Much of the post-mortem focused on Welch herself: her age, her lack of experience, her pivot from crypto critic to active promoter—which led to her perceived opportunism. But these headlines often miss the real systemic problem outside of the crypto industry bubble: where were her advisors? In fact, where are the professionals prepared to meet the moment in this fast-paced, evolving and uncertain world of new methods of monetization in the digital ownership age?
Because here’s the truth: Haliey Welch is not an attorney. She’s not a securities expert. And certainly not a crypto insider. And she shouldn’t be expected to be. That’s what her agent, manager, publicist and lawyer are for. Or, at least, that’s what they’re supposed to be for.
The Forgotten Role of the Advisory Team
Celebrity representation isn’t just about negotiating paydays and booking press. It’s about identifying opportunity, maximizing profit, managing reputation and all while minimizing, neutralizing or avoiding risk. That requires evaluating not just the size of the payoff but the terms, the exposure, and the reputation cost of any venture, especially one as volatile and legally fraught as cryptocurrency.
Entertainment lawyers are trained to flag redlines in IP and endorsement contracts. Agents are trained to spot risky branding deals. Managers are supposed to have a 360-degree view of a client’s public image and career arc. And yet, in deal after deal, we’re seeing the same pattern: celebrities dive headfirst into crypto launches with little understanding of how securities laws apply and even less clarity on what happens when the project fails.
JUST IN: "Hawk Tuah" girl Haliey Welch says SEC closed its investigation into her crypto meme coin that crashed 95% hours after launch.
— Watcher.Guru (@WatcherGuru) March 28, 2025
She says they will not pursue any charges or monetary sanctions. pic.twitter.com/RNxzf6IDjb
Welch’s case is only the latest example. Kim Kardashian, Floyd Mayweather, DJ Khaled—all faced SEC fines for promoting crypto tokens without disclosing their compensation. Tom Brady and Gisele Bündchen were named in investor lawsuits over their FTX endorsements. Even Matt Damon, while not sued, suffered brand backlash for his “Fortune Favors the Brave” campaign during the 2022 crash.
These aren’t isolated incidents. They’re symptoms of a much deeper problem: advisors treating crypto as any other merch, when it’s actually heavily regulated finance.
Misplaced Assumptions and Misunderstood Products
There’s a growing assumption—especially among celebrities and influencers—that crypto tokens are simply the next wave of fan engagement, much like NFTs, merch drops, or sponsored content. But not all tokens are created equal. When a token meets the criteria of a security—under the well-established Howey Test from a 1946 Supreme Court case—it carries serious legal obligations.
Promoting these assets without proper disclosure, regulatory compliance, or a full understanding of the risks isn’t just unwise, it can be unlawful and potentially career-ending. In this space, misunderstanding the product is no defense.
Trading On Trust
Anti-touting rules in U.S. securities law exist to protect investors by requiring clear, unbiased disclosures—especially when someone is paid to promote an investment. These rules matter more than ever in the age of viral content, where one social post can trigger millions in speculative buying.
The SEC doesn’t weigh intent; it weighs impact. If someone promotes an investment—where people expect profits from someone else’s efforts—without proper disclosures or in a misleading way, that’s a regulatory problem. Celebrities often take the public fall, but the real failure often lies with the advisers who didn’t do their homework—or didn’t care to.
This brings us to a deeper issue: the distinction between pure memecoins and celebrity-backed coins. Most memecoins are driven by community and cultural moments, often absurd by design, and sustained by shared internet humor rather than any implied utility or ROI.
They are risky, yes—but transparently so.
Celebrity-backed coins, however, operate differently. They carry an implicit promise of trust—borrowed from the celebrity’s brand. That changes the equation. The coin becomes less about collective inside jokes and more about the credibility, reputation and perceived influence of a single individual. This isn’t just speculative play; it’s marketing disguised as momentum.
That’s a sharp turn from Bitcoin’s original intent. Bitcoin was built to eliminate the need for trust in institutions or personalities. It introduced a system where value could move peer-to-peer, verified by code, not by charisma. In that light, celebrity coins are more than just a bad bet—they are a betrayal of crypto’s founding philosophy. They reintroduce the very dynamics Bitcoin was created to bypass.
So, yes, let the buyer beware, but let the touter, and their team, beware even more. Because when hype replaces substance, and influence stands in for integrity, both the market and the mission suffer.
A Different Type of Risk: When the President Sets the Worst Example
Complicating the landscape further is the fact that the highest office in the land is now participating in the same behavior experts have long flagged as problematic. Just days before his second inauguration, President Donald Trump launched a pair of family-branded memecoins—$TRUMP, followed by his wife’s $MELANIA coin. Both debuted alongside a sweeping pro-crypto agenda that included proposals to roll back prior SEC enforcement efforts and establish a Strategic Bitcoin Reserve.
While legal, the dual role of personal promoter and national policymaker raises important questions about regulatory neutrality. When the lines between private financial interest and public policy begin to blur, it becomes harder to set clear expectations for anyone else—let alone a 25-year-old influencer.
Still, the answer isn’t resignation. It’s a renewed call for greater accountability and expertise from those working behind the scenes to advise, vet and protect—not just profit from—the next big opportunity.
Haliey Welch, the ‘Hawk Tuah’ girl, has officially returned to social media
— Dexerto (@Dexerto) March 25, 2025
She went offline after an alleged ‘pump and dump’ of her crypto meme coin
pic.twitter.com/c8XTmPTLoY
Whose Job Is It, Anyway?
Ultimately, celebrities will always chase the next big thing. That’s part of their brand currency. But when it comes to financial products—especially speculative ones like memecoins and stablecoins—the burden of caution falls most heavily on those paid to know better.
Agents, managers, lawyers: if you are not protecting your client from reputational and legal fallout, you’re not doing your job. And if you don’t understand crypto well enough to ask the right questions, it’s your responsibility to find someone who does.
The Hawk Tuah case didn’t implode because Welch was reckless. It imploded because no one around her stopped to ask: “What are we really selling here, and what’s the worst that could happen?”
That question, posed early and honestly, might’ve made all the difference.
