Last week I ran a poll on Instagram stories and started a thread in our Substack chat soliciting input on the subject of dupes – a controversial topic that’s been percolating in my community because of the pervasiveness of Margaux inspired bags. Within minutes, hundreds (literally) of dissenting voices sounded off. It’s a conversation I’ve hesitated to take on, not only because it’s nuanced and I needed time to formulate my thoughts, but also because I knew it was going to give some people a bit of a rub. I want to be respectful to brands while being transparent with my audience, and that requires some delicacy.
This note’s audio accompaniment
Here's a summary of the responses I received on Instagram:
idea theft
don’t like when luxury houses makes dupes
inspired dupes are ok but not copies
no to low-end dupes but high-street ok
if I can get a quality dupe and save money then yes
dupes ok for trending items
dupes are prints for people who can’t afford the original artwork
democratizes fashion so I love them
yes to clothing, no to shoes and bags
would rather save for the real deal
there’s less joy in dupes and I feel incomplete
takes away from the exclusivity of an item you paid a lot for
fuels overconsumption and we don’t need to own everything, if you can’t afford it don’t buy it
test drive before the real thing
everything is a copy of something else
The answers seem relatively straightforward but they’re subjective and heavily influenced by factors such as lived experience, financial status, and what our role is in the equation (consumer, designer, employee). It’s almost impossible to unpack all of it in a brief essay but I’m going take a stab at it and I hope I don’t piss off a lot of people in the process.
For the purpose of this discussion, I’ll define a dupe as an item bearing the likeness of an original that is still somewhat distinguishable from its inspiration. This does not include fakes which I consider fraudulent, identical copies of an original with misuse of a trademarked logo. The latter is criminal.
Design patents can be secured for fashion items if they’re novel or if they offer new utility, but as I understand it, they’re difficult to attain and difficult to defend. Copyrights offer protection for an original work (doesn’t include dupes) which leaves brands the option of protection under trademark law. I’m not an expert but from what I’ve read, it’s extremely frustrating for designers as they have very little recourse when someone lifts their concept.
I think unique designs should be protected for a period of time (even pharmaceutical companies manufacturing medications are allotted a window before generics are allowed to enter the market with their version) and I also think stricter regulation would inspire more creativity because they’d be forced to go back to the table and rework their model. However, if they’re banned outright, it would inevitably lead to a monopolization and dupes democratize fashion by allowing access to a wider demographic. I guess the question is, if a designer creates something desirable and unique, shouldn’t they have the right to hold a monopoly on said item and charge what they want? No one is forcing our hand; we can choose not to purchase it. Alternatively, if prices continue to increase and shut people out, are other brands not able to create something similar at more affordable prices? And further, what of the notion that there are no new ideas and that everything we see today is a nod to the past? Miyake, Gigli, Yohji, Margiela, and the rest of the greats, have all been referenced in collections presented by different designers. When imitations begin to appear, should a designer consider it a compliment and a sure sign they’ve “arrived” and move on? Maybe…except that while imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, it takes on a whole new meaning when the imitator profits from it.
I tend to steer clear of dupes but, I’m not entirely opposed to them. If I’m considering an alternative, it has to fit some criteria (inspired version, good quality, mid-range/not low-end, not an idea taken from a small/independent designer).
Why do people purchase dupes? Well, I might consider an alternative item if the price is out of range (happening more often now) or if I’ve missed out on the original (I do this more often with clothing). Some might prefer to direct their funds to other things like art or experiences. And some might be aspirational clients who can’t afford the luxury version right now but still want to partake. For those who sit in the latter category but self-regulate and avoid dupes on principle alone, I doff my cap to you.
I was lucky my duffle bag worked out but that isn’t always the case. If the item doesn’t quite fill the gap, I end up buying the original as well and it leaves with me with a bloated heaviness similar to how I feel after overeating. Dupes fuel overconsumption, but are the companies responding to the demand for reasonable alternatives solely culpable? What about the luxury conglomerates who hold most of the power and sell extremely exclusive pieces only a small percentage of the population can afford? How about celebrity-worshipping culture, and influencers (like me) who stoke demand? I can’t exculpate myself from this discussion because I’m an enabler and I’m able to see this from different angles as I’m not only a content creator and a consumer with access, but I was also once a consumer without access.
I grew up in the 1970s in a small, impoverished city of mostly white people, as a middle-class brown kid. It was challenging, at best. I’m not sure I’d be nearly as well adjusted had it not been for the comradery of the other South Asian families that immigrated around the same time. We were a group of twenty (or so) families who met regularly, rotating between each other’s houses, and sometimes gathering for larger celebrations (like Diwali) at recreation centres. I still remember the vastness of that room we rented, with a section upstairs that was strictly off limits (we snuck away and spent most of our time making macrame bracelets in one of the craft rooms up there), the lively Bollywood music, the scent of spicy food and fresh rotis wafting in from the kitchen with all the aunties moving swiftly between stations in rhythm (still in awe of their efficiency), the uncles bantering outside while they waited for food with drinks in hand, little kids running up and down the halls, and just the pure joy of it all. I know that everything is exaggerated through the lens of a younger person but there was an exhilarating largeness of that feeling that can only be ascribed to one thing – a sense of belonging. And when I was away from my tribe, the feeling was anything but.
In grade seven, there was a girl in my art class who sat behind me who was, ostensibly, the opposite of me. She was tall, blonde, had gleaming blue eyes, was incredibly popular, and wore amazing outfits I could never afford. Her tops had visible designer labels and she never wore the same thing more than once a week. One day she came in with a brightly coloured striped top and I couldn’t help myself, I turned around and said, “I love your outfit”. She thanked me (I was stunned she had even acknowledged me). Emboldened, I made the mistake of following up with “I really like that label that says ES-PRIT”. She paused for a second (it felt like an eternity), then scoffed derisively and said, “What did you say?”. I repeated myself but she clarified and said “No, just the last word”. I said “Es-prit”. She called her friends over immediately to tell them what happened, and they burst into laughter. She ended with “It’s Esprit” and rolled her eyes. It’s one of many indelibly humiliating (and defining) moments from my younger years that fortified my empathic response towards others experiencing exclusion.
So…what’s the dupe connection? I think the dupe is connection.
It’s a material tie to an intangible connectedness that allows us to be part of something bigger than ourselves. Everyone wants to belong (on some level), we thrive when we have a strong community of support. For many, a dupe is less about the item itself and more about inclusion and that primal desire for acceptance. It’s the ego’s misguided effort to ensure we don’t get left behind. Maybe this analogy comes across as reaching and over-baked (and you might be correct) but to take it further, I think the desire for exclusivity also stems from the same anthropological drive to survive. Both groups want to be part of the tribe, but the second group wants to sit at the top where greater safety, power and privilege reside. After all, what fun is there sitting alone on an island with no one to admire your pretty bag, the house you live in, the car you drive, or the school your children attend?
I’ll admit, seeing so many people suddenly pop up with Margaux bags in hand was triggering, but I didn’t like that I felt this way. After some heavy introspection what I’ve realized is that it’s not that I don’t want others to have nice things, because I do (and I spend a good deal of my time trying to find items for my audience), it’s more about not wanting to see the same thing every time I open an app. It’s uninspiring and familiarity really does breed contempt. I’m tired of seeing Birkins and Kellys, and I still love Margaux…I don’t want to fall out of love.
I’m not trying to excuse dupe culture, nor am I using my experiences to encourage the consumption of products produced by companies with zero transparency, abuse of labour, and absolute disregard for the environment (some dupes are far more collaterally damaging than others); however, there’s a middle ground and I think we need to make room. It would be hypocritical of me to judge someone who opts for a dupe because I think the reasons behind it are greater than what they seem - and I can relate. For most of my youth, I felt like I was a dupe.
As long as we have luxury brands creating iconic pieces, and an ever-widening wealth gap, there will be a market for them and diverse discussion around them, and are the “haves” really in a position to be telling the “have-nots” what they can and can’t have? Solving for this isn’t just a matter of stricter trademark regulation, scaling back production and employing more mindful practices (many of my brand partners are doing this and I love them for it), we also need to take a non-capitalistic approach. We need more empathy, less judgement, more inclusion, less focus on material things, less screen time, less influencing, more time reading, more time in nature, and physically being in the company of people who cherish us even when we’re in our unbranded scrubs. This will organically curb the spend and take the steam out of the machine. Sorry if this reads like an overzealous dissertation but it’s a complicated, layered subject that holds multiple truths, and you may disagree with a lot of what I’ve said but just as my experiences inform my opinion, so too, do yours.
I love quality pieces and they come at a high cost. I support the protection of artistic property and the environment but I’m sympathetic to those who want in. I’m aware of my influence and the resulting impact but I love having an outlet for expression and I want to continue to inspire and create. I know we can’t stay the course without sustaining significant damage to the planet but it’s not as easy as flicking a switch. And finally, I’d love to make sure everyone has a seat at the table but it isn’t easy when many are incented to protect the status quo because they’re very content sitting at the head.
I’ll continue to keep challenging myself and I’ll keep the lines open. Would love to hear from you.
N xo
I think people who come from exclusionary sensibilities will always frown upon dupes. And a part of me understands from a root cause analysis- but we need dupes. For example: i was for the past 10 years very visibly plus size and was very limited in access to designer pieces in my size- so i went to talented tailors and dressmakers and small batch designers and asked them to make me dresses and hero pieces based on designers i loved. and for shoes- what elevated high street or heritage designer do we know making shoes in a size 45 (US women’s 13?). the designers we love often exclude large segments of the population beyond socio-economic status- intentionally. i’d like to think that the modern concepts of luxury and luxury fashion is stubbornly committed to exclusion. and it’s unfortunate.
this year i purchased 2 bags from Bottega (the way you love the row is the way my heart sings for Bottega and has for the past 20 years). the bags i bought this year are perhaps their most replicated- but for me, my relationship to it was simple- i wanted the craftsmanship, and the thoughtfulness that came with the design, silhouette, materials. i went to a fast fashion store the other day and saw the “dupes” and i can feel the difference completely. does it bother me that i spent thousands and others can buy a dupe for $100? not at all. because i bought my pieces for me. for a lifetime. no one else pays the bill but me. Exclusive- feels luxurious. But Exclusion? Not to me.
but i do agree that for the girlies with a healthy appetite for fashion and trends are encouraged to overconsume with the availability of dupes and love that you unpacked that with “just because it’s created doesn’t mean we need to own it/have it” ❤️
Thank you so much for this, and for all your content. I’m a big fan.
Something I think about are dupes in the other direction. Dupes of Stan Smith Adidas that cost 10 times more than the leather original? Or Clark’s desert boots? Canvas carpenter tool bags? Levi’s jeans? Penny loafers? Capezio slippers, character shoes, and ballet bags? Men’s work wear? I haven’t decided for myself, but I do ponder the topic.