“The knowledge is the power and the power is the flex.”

Once upon a time, you might have been embarrassed to be seen with a counterfeit Chanel handbag from a Turkish market stall, and only worn it on the sly. But not today: in 2026 #dupe has become one of the most searched terms on social media, with young people across the globe flexing their knock-off products as a more cost-efficient way of keeping up with trends. 

And the hottest Gen Z brands are responding to this, releasing their own replica products of classic luxury staples, such as Peak Television’s recent line of “Furberry” shirts and hats. It's a deeply satirical move that pokes fun at the original and strips away its authority, revealing the extent to which dupe culture has become not just socially acceptable, but admirable, even cool; a middle finger to the big brands that previously held power unconditionally. 

Caitlin Monahan and Olu Alege call this a “reverse status symbol” in their report on the changing dynamics of dupe culture. Having come of age during the hypebeast era of the 2000s, both writers had noticed this extreme shift in how young people were engaging with fakes. “I was seeing Labubu dupes in my off-license, designers saying that their work is being plagiarised, and StockX celebrating World Anticounterfeiting Day,” Cait tells me over Zoom. “And I was like, no one cares that things are fake anymore. And then I was like - but do they?” 

It’s the very essence of being a fake, Cait argues, that makes something so powerful. To buy a dupe in today’s context signals knowledge, effort and resourcefulness. “The person who bought the dupe is the smartest one in the room,” she and Olu write in their collaborative report. But what does that mean for the brands being duped, and why have they lost the kudos that once came with authenticity? 

We spoke to Cait and Olu to find out… 

What do you think are the social forces that have created this shift in the way we think about dupe culture?

OA - “I feel like when we were growing up, product was everything. The idea of wearing a brand authenticated your identity; it was a status symbol, a way into a lifestyle I aspired to. But today, brands have gotten away from actually catering to the people they serve, and people have noticed that. 

People are responding by saying: ‘I don't have to subscribe to what you're selling me. I don't have to wear your brand to feel whole; there are other ways I can do that.’ And part of that rebellion is dupe culture. Because dupes are more than just saying, ‘I can't afford something.’ It's about saying, ‘I choose not to buy this thing versus another’.” 

And how has that changed people’s perception of what it means to wear fakes?  

CM - “Fakeness has always existed in proximity to the authentic thing. And so this idea of filling a gap in the market has always existed (like we found that Gucci didn't make their first do-rag until 2025, which is insane because it's been bootlegged for decades). But the shame associated with dupes has changed because of mass consumer fatigue, an increased awareness about the actual quality of products and their supply chains, and the constant turnover of creative directors. 

I think that knowledge has enabled us to craft a more autonomous relationship with the product. We get to decide what we want to do with that knowledge; whether we carry on buying luxury or we buy the fake. The knowledge is the power, and the power is the flex.”

I love that! It reminds me of a quote in your report: “the duper is the new critic and curator”, which I found really interesting because it puts power into the hands of the consumer. How do you think dupe culture can be seen as rebellious? 

CM - “The rebellion sentiment can be chopped up in different sections. The first is physically taking the product and fucking it up. That seemed to be quite a London attitude as opposed to the other cities we did focus groups in. There was this level of participation on your own terms;  trying to be as authentic to your personal style through the brand artefact you have, no matter if it's real or not. 

A dupe used to be something you were ashamed of, and now it's a reverse status symbol. You have to have the know-how, the discretion, the cognitive awareness and even just the process of finding that thing; it requires so much more work. And I think that the work is the flex and the status. It’s proof of having to think, especially in an age of AI. 

But on the flip side, someone in our focus group was like, is it really rebellious if it still relies on the luxury product to exist in the first place? You're still interacting with it, so how rebellious can you be?” 

That’s a good point. You also talk about brands that play into dupe culture well… Do you feel like that’s a way for them to take back the power they lost?

CM - “I think that brands participating with dupe culture is less about taking power back and more about acknowledging that it's happening. And that's a beautiful thing because it feels really honest. It’s always really well received by audiences. People really rated The RealReal pop up they did on Canal Street, or the Diesel one where they misspelt their own name. Maybe it is taking a bit of power back, but I don't think that's the brand's intention. They're not trying to stop dupe culture, just platform it. So in a sense, I guess that is a bit powerful.”

OA - “Dupe culture is a reflection of the times. For a long time, fashion was really connected to what was actually happening in the world. How people dressed in the 90s and the 2000s reflected the consciousness of the moment, but I feel like right now a lot of brands don’t understand the minds of consumers on the ground. And dupe culture is a response to that, saying: ‘Yo, you're not talking to me. You're not reflecting working-class individuals who want to spend money, but don't have money right now. There's a cost of living crisis and what is your response to that?’ 

When I was growing up in New York, like ‘08, ‘09, fashion's response to the recession was something called Fashion’s Night Out. It was this thing that Anna Wintour put on where all these brands invited people into their stores to test the product. It was a celebration of fashion that stimulated some sales, but also just allowed people to be a part of that story. 

Even though you knew high fashion was unattainable, you felt like they wanted to speak to you. Like they wanted to let you in. But I just feel like now, brands have closed their doors to a lot of people. And so people are going: ‘fuck Gucci, fuck Prada, fuck Rolex. I'm going to buy this shit from Canal Street.’ Because there isn't that connection, there isn't that dialogue happening, right?” 

A lot of high fashion brands are leaning into lifestyle and wellness products; do you see that as a way of responding to the cost of living crisis by making something that is not just beautiful, but also useful, more value for money? 

OA - “Brands are building conglomerates. They're not just giving you a nice-fitting t-shirt anymore; it's got to be breathable, sustainable, and able to track your steps. There's got to be more to it than just looking good. The new-age brand isn't just one that tells a story well, but a brand that goes deeper. Because consumers are the smartest they've ever been, and have more information than ever before.”

How does a brand go deeper? How do you speak to consumers today on their level?

OA - “I think you’ve got to meet people where they are. A lot of institutions talk down to people. But instead they should be listening to the consumer. Where's that channel of communication gone? Where do you go to learn about people? Everything has been taken over, right? The dancefloor has been taken over (now we look at the DJs and not the people on the dancefloor). All these spaces that create moments of passion and connection are being hijacked by companies. Where do we go to get together? You can't speak on social media. That's all fake. You can't go to a party. You can't go out and march for something. You can't even date anymore without using an app, right? 

Surveillance culture is at its peak. So where do you go to find a natural connection? I think that's what people are looking for right now. Somewhere we can just show up and be ourselves. That's where you find the good shit – the next, the now, and the past. When two or more people gather, something happens.” 

How much responsibility do brands have to foster that? They can't create culture, so how much should they try to create connection, and at what stage should they step in?

CM - “I often speak with freelancers doing reports for brands who choose not to include certain things, like a particular night or DJ or platform. There's a level of gatekeeping because, as a brand, you don't have to tap into everything. Sometimes you can just come with some money and a platform without taking up space in the room. Because sometimes you don't deserve the right to enter that space without having the money, the time, the resources, or the community to meet them where they are.” 

OA - “People that work at brands today, they don't have those sensibilities that Caitlin just mentioned. They don’t have the foresight to think: ‘I'm not gonna put this here because I want to let it grow.’ People that work at brands today have no connection to culture, no proximity to it. 

Because with these spaces, you need zigzaggers. You need people who are from the culture; maybe they used to be a DJ or a writer. But they're not hiring those people, and that's what's dying. We need these people to be in positions with autonomy. That's the only way shit's gonna grow - out of a healthy balance. But right now, the playing field is not level.”

To bring it back to the report before we end, I wanted to know your thoughts on where this might all be headed. In a world where everything can be copied, will the future of creativity be creating something that is “undupable” – so to speak? 

CM - “Yes and no. Once something's online, it is impossible to be undupable. And in a sense, I don't think that should be the goal, because in every decade of fashion, things have been copied through whatever medium was available at the time: the sidewalk, blogs, social media, now AI. Sometimes dupes help brands, sometimes they keep them in the vernacular, or let people participate long enough that the original stays aspirational.

But I do think brands should try harder to make signature things. Luxury brands don't have that anymore. Everything's so homogenous; every brand has the exact same shirt and the exact same bag and the exact same light wash jeans and the exact same hoodie and the exact same fray on the exact same sweater. But what's undupable is the signature pieces. So even if someone does create deep fakes of your brand or copies the product, it’s so specifically yours that it's harder for someone else to claim it.”

OA - “I keep coming back to something James Blake said: ‘Everyone in the music industry needs to know that everything is fake.’ That’s exactly what we're talking about here. I don't think the question is about making something that is undupable; I think the conversation needs to be about information. If I have the information to make my own decision, then that's when I'm a winner. When we talk about dupes, that's ultimately what we're talking about: access and information. You can't dupe that. Once you have the information, it’s up to you to be the genius that you are.”