Don’t Walk, RUN: Gen Z’s Infatuation with Dupe Culture

Oftentimes, you can visualize the comment section of a TikTok post before you even think about opening it. If a girl is wearing a cute top, jeans, or necklace, chances are there’s someone asking her where she bought it from. As of late, chances that the girl replies with the word “Amazon!” or “It’s linked in my Amazon storefront” have skyrocketed in tandem. This infatuation with curating one’s own wardrobe, with trend on top of trend, has only grown with the rise of influencer culture. The term “Amazon dupe,” in particular, has garnered great interest amongst Gen Z in the last few months. Having reinstated a new era of dupe culture, Amazon storefronts are taking a sector of the fashion industry by storm—one constantly being redefined by Gen Z, yet always remaining rooted in affordability and being economical. Or, namely, the notion of “I can get something that looks and feels exactly like this—but at a fraction of the price.”

Dupes, derived from the term “duplicate,” refer to cheaper alternatives offered at a significantly lower price. The online slang gained traction in the early 2000’s, originating in the fashion and beauty sphere. With the earliest known usage of the word tracing all the way back to 2008, the term has come back in full force, in part due to modern pop culture and Gen Z’s desire to save money. After a video of a few girls in Walmart— holding random store items up and calling them “dupes” for high-end products— went viral, Gen Z’s obsession with the term grew. Today, we are living through an epidemic—the TikTok Amazon storefront epidemic. Through Amazon’s Influencer Program, content creators utilize their platform to inspire customers to shop Amazon’s millions of products through a curated personalized webpage on Amazon. An article from The Cut describes these Amazon influencers as part of “an affiliate scheme that encourages influencers to plug Amazon products on their socials and direct audiences to their Amazon Storefront to buy those things.” It certainly doesn’t help with the rapid fashion cycles constantly pushing out trend after trend, forcing our hand at participating in them due to FOMO (fear of missing out). This Amazon epidemic, though warranted through affordable prices and alternatives to high-end fashion brands, raises questions pertaining not only to sustainability but also authenticity—is it really considered fashion if what you’re buying isn’t “the real thing”?  

Amazon Fashion influencer videos often start with bold statements overlaying a neatly flat lay setup of clothes, shoes, and accessories. Examples include: Basics you NEED from Amazon. Things I don’t regret buying from Amazon in 2023. Amazon or Aritzia Cargo Lounge Set? AMAZON TOP 10 “IT GIRL” BASICS YOU NEED. Drawing viewers in with big statements, the videos then proceed to show speedy try-ons and more flashy flat lays of said dupes. They’re quick and straightforward; with how short our attention spans have gotten, TikTok’s short-form content format continues to prove its viability through videos like these. It doesn’t take much convincing, either—most people note the price difference and add it to their carts immediately.

I’m not quite sure where this niche subgenre of “Amazon Fashion Influencer” originated from, but there are countless accounts on TikTok that post nothing but “hidden fashion finds” on Amazon—all, of course, linked to their Amazon storefront. As I was conducting research on this topic, I felt as if I was reading the same words over and over again: “must-have” this, basics you “need,” and trying this “viral” top so you don’t have to. To be frank, it was giving me a headache. Not everything is a must-have or a necessity, but these Amazon Influencers need to make a living somehow, right? So far, it seems like they certainly are—one video, titled “Amazon basic must haves that snatch and smooth like Skims,” peaks at over 8 million views and 1.2 million likes.

I follow plenty of Amazon Fashion influencers myself. Before I knew what Amazon storefronts were, I had almost no idea that these content creators were getting commissions when people bought into their recommendations. When I realized the scheme that all of these TikTokers were plotting, I felt betrayed. I’ve always exerted extra caution whenever a video with the tag #ad or #sponsored is in the caption, but the fact that Amazon storefronts are also monetary incentives completely slipped my mind. The thing is, I don’t mind it— some of the dupes that are found on Amazon are actually quite good. I own an Aritzia bodysuit “dupe,” and the amount of people who have asked me where it’s from is strikingly high. The dialogue that follows afterwards is always amusing: “Where’d you get your bodysuit from? It looks like it’s from Aritzia!,” leading to me promptly replying with the singular word Amazon. Gen Z find solidarity in saving money while still looking put together, and this is heavily reflected in the many TikTok accounts posting exclusive Amazon dupe content. This is one thing I like about the Amazon storefront epidemic; despite its downfalls and questionable motives, it has brought about a community of people who simply want to help each other out. And that core principle stands out far more significantly than anything else. As we move forward with greater accessibility, it’s important to note the difference between being a conscious consumer and a trend follower. At the end of the day, people can spend their money on anything they believe will enhance their life or simply fulfil their desires. The future of Amazon storefronts is seemingly infinite and ever-expanding. With Amazon running a tight ship in regards to its overarching monopoly across multiple industry fields, it wouldn’t be surprising if dupe culture becomes the new standard.