Who’s Duping Who?
When everything looks the same, personal style matters more than ever.
The other day, a client showed me an exact dupe of a piece from an expensive designer I love. It stopped me in my tracks because the dupe was so good.
I have never been a fan of exact duplicates. My feeling has always been that whoever originated the idea should get the credit—and, ideally, your money. But this particular dupe got me thinking.
Do we actually know who originated the things we’re buying?
And maybe more importantly, do we know if we like something because it’s actually our style—or because we’ve seen it 75 times?
Fashion is built on references. Designers borrow from history, subcultures, uniforms, sports, workwear—and yes, other designers. An idea moves up the fashion food chain, back down again, gets reinterpreted, renamed and eventually presented to us as something new.
Which makes sorting out who is copying whom surprisingly complicated.
Designers dupe, too.
The truth is, high-end designers copy brands and culture too.
Take skate culture. It’s coming through strongly in fashion right now, but luxury designers certainly didn’t invent it. Skate shoes existed long before a designer put a four-figure price tag on them.
We’ve also spent the last several years watching people pay upwards of $1,000 for sneakers that look remarkably like the ones we wore when we were 12—or, depending on your age, the ones your mom wore.
Birkenstocks. Western belts. Work jackets. Loafers. Cowboy boots. Athletic sneakers.
These things have histories and cultures that existed long before they appeared on a luxury runway.
When a less expensive brand makes something that looks like a designer piece, we’re quick to call it a dupe. But when luxury fashion borrows from something inexpensive, utilitarian or rooted in a subculture, it often doesn’t get called out in quite the same way.
I’m not saying they’re the same thing. An exact copy is an exact copy, and I still don’t love it. But the line between inspiration, reinterpretation and copying is a lot less clean than we sometimes pretend it is. I’m not saying they’re the same thing. A lot of what we call dupes are mass-produced copies specifically made to replicate a designer piece. But we’re much less likely to call it out when the borrowing goes the other way—when a luxury designer takes something that already exists, reinterprets it and charges an arm and a leg for it. That’s its own kind of offense. The line between inspiration, reinterpretation and copying is a lot less clean than we sometimes pretend it is.
And there is another problem.
We are constantly being shown what to want.
Social media, influencers, advertising, algorithms—it’s endless. And I’m susceptible to it too.
When you see the same shoe, bag or silhouette fifty times, it starts to feel strangely inevitable.
Do I actually like this? Or have I just seen it 50 times?
You stop asking the first question and start thinking, Maybe I need this.
That’s where dupe culture becomes less interesting to me than personal style.
If you actually know what you like, you don’t necessarily need the viral shoe. You can look at something, understand what you’re responding to, and decide whether it actually belongs in your wardrobe.
So, in the interest of keeping some originality in our closets, here are a few things I suggest:
1. Figure out what you actually like.
Before worrying about brands, trends or what everyone else is wearing, establish your own style. What shapes do you consistently respond to? What eras? What colors? What kinds of clothes make you feel most like yourself? I’ve talked more about how to do this elsewhere, but knowing your own taste makes everything that follows much easier.
2. Do a little research.
You don’t need a degree in fashion history. Just find out where the things you like actually came from.
Love skate culture? Buy traditional Vans. I wear them all the time and personally refuse to buy the expensive designer versions.
Love a Western belt? Rather than immediately buying the designer version, why not find a local Western store that’s been making genuine leather belts for years? You may find something more authentic and interesting for a fraction of the price.
Sometimes the original is actually the better deal.
3. Shop secondhand.
If buying from the original source of a style is more expensive than your budget allows, look for it secondhand. There is already an enormous amount of incredible clothing in the world. Not everything needs to be newly manufactured—or newly copied. Plus, you have a much better chance of finding something that isn’t currently sitting in everyone else’s cart.
4. Look for the idea, not the dupe.
If you’ve fallen in love with a designer piece you genuinely can’t afford, figure out what you like about it. Is it the proportion? The color? The oversized shoulder? The fabric? The attitude?
Then look for a smaller designer or another brand with a similar point of view at a price you can afford. You get what you actually responded to without buying a carbon copy—and you may end up with something much more interesting.
Personal style shouldn’t be about recreating an image you’ve already seen. It should be about collecting references, understanding what speaks to you and then making those references your own.
Social media is very good at telling us what to want. AI is becoming very good at telling us what we might want. But neither can decide what you actually like. That part is still yours.
And if sorting through all of this feels harder than it should—what you actually like, what’s worth buying, and what really belongs in your wardrobe—that is, quite literally, what a stylist is for.
If you need help—streamlining your wardrobe or a complete style overhaul—I offer wardrobe consulting that’s both practical and elevated.
Enjoy!
