Is TikTok’s dupe mindset duping us all?

On TikTok, #dupe has over 3.2 billion views and counting, so you've probably seen the videos proclaiming the latest and greatest dupes. Or the new ‘dupe queens’ who have emerged as one of the most popular influencer archetypes of the moment. “People who still buy designer clothes are out of touch”, they cry, before proceeding to ‘de-influence’ you from buying pricey products. After rattling through expensive hair and skin products that “aren’t worth it”, they then recommend cheaper alternatives (they couldn’t just tell you to stop buying — that would be antithetical to their jobs). 

If you’ve seen the content but aren’t totally clued in, internet speak “dupe” is shorthand for “duplicate”. It's like a knock-off, except it isn’t trying to exactly imitate another more expensive product. Instead it quietly gloats that it’s the cheaper option, that it has all the same lip plumping qualities as a Dior lip gloss, or that it will snatch your waist just as tight as a Lululemon BBL jacket. It just doesn't have the logo, nor the high price tag. 

Dupe culture has become so prolific that it’s now a popular trend for young people to walk around discount stores, pointing out random pleather and plastic items and calling them designer dupes — or “doop” as they exaggeratedly pronounce to the camera. In fact, there’s so much mania surrounding dupes that we’ve evolved past product recommendations into the ‘dupe mindset’. And as one viral TikTok put it: “once you get into the dupe mindset, everything becomes a dupe”. A job? Generational wealth dupe. Can’t find a relationship? Why don’t you try an oversized pillow as a dupe instead. Bingeing Netflix in bed? Wait, don’t you mean therapy dupe? 

Luxury is associated with high quality materials and fine craftsmanship, so comparing a pleather tote to a Prada bag is obviously a joke. However, as the declining product quality becomes more apparent — just look at new styles of Chanel bags being made out of plastic and Cartier no longer authenticating their bracelets because they can’t tell the difference between the real deal, which starts at nearly $5,000, and $100 fakes — one day a pleather tote Prada ‘doop’ might not seem so farcical. Absurdist fashion darling AVAVAV even toyed with the idea of declining quality in luxury at their runway show earlier this month — with models’ clothes literally falling apart as they walked the catwalk.  As for the more far-out dupe mentality, of course it sounds ridiculous to call bingeing Netflix in bed a replacement for therapy, but with the waitlist for free NHS therapy up to a year long and a shortage of therapists in the US since the beginning of the pandemic, it’s probably what most young people will have to resort to. House prices continue to soar while real-term wages plummet, meaning it’s going to be impossible to secure generational wealth — but you can get a job and call it a dupe.

Gen Z’s medium is irony, and by offering outlandish alternatives to our unmet basic human needs they’re trolling the absurdity of the situation. However the problem with irony is that it’s referential. It says that we’re aware of the worsening inequalities between classes and how out-of-touch ‘aspirational’ content can seem in this climate, but we resign from combating the problem — instead we’re just going to parody it. 

Really the most radical thing would be to say we don’t need the latest viral lipstick or pair of leggings — not even the cheaper alternative. However, we haven’t yet moved beyond our desire to define our online personas through what we consume and our cultural tendency to organise everything into aestheticised categories. Take recession-core — in the midst of a harrowing cost of living crisis, it’s no longer tasteful to showcase your wealth. So on the red carpet celebrities pivot away from expensive statement necklaces — an immediate sign of luxury — while TikTokers favour practical bags, beige tones and unisex clothing, and still we define the look of dialling back on conspicuous consumption with a catchy -core label. Anti-aspiration becomes the tone du jour, with dupes the hottest thing to influence your followers into buying (or at least buying into your personal brand).

It’s a marked change from the internet of yester-scroll where dupe culture wasn’t historically celebrated — who could forget being vilified for having fake uggs or “fuggs” at school, or the fake Yeezy manhunts across YouTube? Although the beauty community has been more forward-thinking towards dupe content — take beauty blogger Temptalia’s long running dupe list first started in 2006 — fashion has been much slower to catch up. For a long time the most successful, well-known influencers traded in aspiration — through both association with longstanding luxury labels and the buzzy brand of the moment. By definition this meant whatever they were posting had to be somewhat elusive and unattainable — think a teenage Kylie Jenner regularly posting her wrist full of Cartier Love bracelets, said to cost over $40,000 (Kylie’s posts also led to the Love bracelet becoming the most searched jewellery item of the 2016 — leading to a sea of fakes and its eventual status-death by duplication we’re witnessing today).

As Shein hauls, de-influencing and of course, the dupe mentality have taken over our For You Pages, the old vanguard has struggled to keep up. Many of us now see posts of expensive products (sponsored or not) as an endorsement of the latest in luxury, which will likely be ‘out’ before we can save up or weigh up the decision to buy in. So instead we hack the game by participating via the cheaper version of whatever aspirational product they’re promoting while proudly owning that we are doing so. Even Skepta’s gotten involved, posting to his Instagram stories last November: “the faker the Gucci the better”. Arguably it’s for the best, or at the very least, it’s better than before. Dupes are far more affordable and accessible, allowing more people to quite literally “get the look for less”, and it’s easy to think they’re collapsing the socioeconomic ladder into a more level playing field. 

In reality a new paradigm for influence is being established, one that has sneakily evolved to thrive in this unprecedented time. It acknowledges that we’re all broke and disillusioned with the declining quality of life, but still dupes us into buying more stuff. Ultimately the fact that dupes and “dupe mentality” is being discussed as a trend proves that it’s only a temporary pushback to aspirational content. Or should I say a ‘dupe’ of it, because although it doesn’t rely on the same top-tier aspiration, this new trend still gets us to do the same thing — buy something just because we saw someone talk about how it changed their life on the FYP. 

Unlike most trends on social media, however, dupe culture probably won’t immediately fall out of vogue. Though consuming dupes doesn’t solve any of the underlying societal issues driving its popularity (and meme-ability), neither does it seem like anyone or anything else will right now. At least it’s a case study on the relationship between relatable content and real-world issues and, hopefully, a step towards a social media-scape that encourages truly consuming mindfully, not just consuming with a budget in mind.  

For more content like this, explore the rest of the Digiverse, or connect with us on TikTok or Instagram. If you’re a brand or business and want to inspire your audience in innovative ways, reach out to our strategic & creative lab eve@thedigitalfairy.co.uk