Many car badges have become icons. They get plastered all over clothing, dorm room posters, and even tattoos. But just like brand and model names, they have a single purpose: to sell more cars. In the cutthroat world of car sales, marketing departments aren’t above slapping together a fake family crest or spending years in court to trademark common slang. Here are 10 car badges you trust—but that are actually lying to you.

Abarth

This Italian tuning house slaps its own badge on its special edition cars. The entire company is named after founder Carlo Abarth. So you’d be excused for thinking he slapped his family crest on the company, alongside his family name. The badge is even shield-shaped, like a medieval European crest. The scorpion at its center, however, is not a particularly medieval image. The shield has the three colors of the Italian flag across the top. It’s split between Italian racing red and a yellow borrowed from Merano, Italy—the town where Abarth took refuge during WWII. So what does the scorpion mean? The iconic small-but-mighty sigil is just because Abarth was a Scorpio. That’s right, this is the astrology tattoo of car badges.

BMW

Ever heard this one at a Cars & Coffee: “The BMW logo is based on a plane propeller because Bayerische Motoren Werke built fighter planes for the Nazis in WWII”? It’s a lie. But one originally promoted by the automaker. By the 1920s, BMW was printing magazine ads with its logo superimposed over a plane’s propeller because aviation was the fastest game in town. But those blue and white crosshairs were originally a tiny section of the Bavarian flag—the province where BMW still hails from.

Bugatti

This fancy-sounding Italian last name adds a bit of old-world flair to the ultra-luxurious supercar brand. But though company founder Ettore Bugatti was born in Italy, he moved to the European center of automotive ingenuity to start his company. In 1909, that meant France. Even the modern Bugatti cars are built in Molsheim, France. Prototypes are often painted light blue, which is France’s traditional racing livery.

Cadillac

When investors bought Henry Ford’s second attempt at a car company, he insisted they rename it. They settled on “Cadillac,” the surname of the French explorer who founded Fort Detroit in the early 1700s. He even had a noble French family crest—perfect for a luxury car company. The only problem? “Antoine de la Mothe Cadillac” was a made-up name. Antoine Laumet invented it when he stepped off a boat in Nova Scotia. His crest? Copied from a classmate whose dad was the actual lord of Cadillac Castle in France. He probably thought Europe would never find out. Now, cars wearing his bogus crest and title are sold all over the world.

Chevrolet

William C. Durant was a Detroit tycoon and the founder of General Motors. When his own brand family ousted him, he partnered with the Chevrolet brothers in 1911 (Swiss-born racing drivers with a French name). Durant deleted his own name from the company. Perhaps it was to make it sound fancy. Perhaps it was so the GM brass didn’t suspect a thing while he grew Chevy so rapidly that he was able to pull off a hostile takeover of GM and kick them out. A more accurate name would have been Durant and the Chevrolets, but that would’ve sounded too much like Harley and the Davidsons. I wonder how Louis and Arthur Chevrolet would feel about half of America nicknaming them “Chevy.”

GMC

There’s a division of General Motors Company with the acronym “GMC.” As if that isn’t confusing enough, GMC has meant several things over the years—from General Motors Truck Company to GMC Truck & Coach Division. But the acronym predates General Motors. In 1900, the Grabowsky brothers founded Grabowsky Motor Company. They rebranded as Rapid Motor Vehicles, but when Durant bought the company in 1909 and folded it into GM, he brought back the GMC logo. It might’ve been familiar to fans of the company and dovetailed with GM’s branding. But he carefully kept the name “Grabowsky” out of all advertising. It certainly didn’t sound as fancy as Chevrolet or Cadillac. But I think it has its own type of charm.

Jeep

At least as early as WWI, “Jeep” was military slang for an untested soldier or vehicle. In 1936, the Popeye comic book introduced a new sidekick for the squint-eyed sailor. “Eugene the Jeep” was an alien species of dog that could climb vertical walls (yes, really). Willys-Overland introduced its 1/4-ton 4WD “Quad” to the press in February 1941 when test driver Irving “Red” Houseman drove one up the U.S. Capitol steps as a publicity stunt. Red called the vehicle a “Jeep.” But when Ford built thousands under license and shipped them to Europe, the badges said “GP” or “GPW.” Allied soldiers all called the pint-sized 4x4s “Jeeps,” but not for any official reason. Other companies claimed “Jeep” was general slang for any off-roader or 4×4. But Willys fought for years in court to trademark the word. It finally won in 1950.

Plymouth

There’s a Plymouth, Michigan, in the Detroit area. So you might think this defunct division of Chrysler Corporation hails from there. But you’d be wrong. The automaker gets its name from Plymouth, Massachusetts—the town where the Pilgrims originally landed. Its original logo was actually a picture of the Mayflower ship they arrived on.

Pontiac

Yes, Pontiac is the name of the town near Detroit where this company was originally headquartered. But don’t be fooled. Until its dying breath (sometime in 2010), the company insisted Pontiac was named after the Native American warrior chief, not the town. For years, its badge was a Native American, often wearing a full headdress. Later, it simplified the badge to an arrowhead.

Porsche

You wouldn’t know it now, but Porsche was once the budget-friendly German sports car company. Janis Joplin was singing “Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes-Benz” while driving a Porsche 356 SC. As the story goes, famed NYC luxury car dealer Max Hoffman sat down with Ferdinand Porsche Jr. (called “Ferry” by his friends) and brainstormed ways to class up the brand. They settled on the new Porsche logo. To U.S. buyers, it might look like a hoity-toity family crest—likely for the Porsche family. But it’s actually a mashup of symbols associated with the city of Stuttgart and the state of Württemberg—all of which are styled to look like a family crest. The home of Porsche HQ was originally known for breeding horses, so the Ferrari-like prancing pony is justified. “Stuttgart” is actually German for “stud farm.”