Of Anti-Dupes, and Other Misadventures in Conscious Consumption
For those engaging with fashion or personal style content, the concept of the ‘dupe’ is a well known one. Put simply, a dupe is a mass produced look-alike of an artisanal product. It is not a fake or a copy exactly, but the result of the fashion industry’s trickle-down effect: In the first instance, influential designers and artisan-makers set the tone of the upcoming seasons’ trends with creative, original collections. The various tiers of high-street brands are then ‘inspired’ by these releases, and produce cheaper, more readily available versions at high volumes.
For example: The Row releases a cashmere coat with a distinct silhouette, in a specially developed colourway, made in small batches in an atelier, with a price tag of €4,000. Several months later, COS releases a similar-looking coat albeit in a wool-blend, factory-made, and with less intricate stitching, for €400. And then Penny’s releases a similar-looking coat albeit in acrylic and much more rudimentary in construction, for €40. The COS and the Penny’s coats are considered dupes of the original one by The Row.
From the average consumer’s perspective, this phenomenon is a welcome one as it democratises access to desirable styles. If an artisanal item is deemed unaffordable (or perhaps suspected of being too fleetingly trendy to warrant purchase), the so-called dupes offer considerably less expensive look-alikes at different price-points to suit a wide range of budgets.
From the perspective of sustainability, however, this process is sharply criticised for being precisely what leads to the over-consumptive and environmentally detrimental effects of ‘fast fashion.’ If we can’t afford the artisanal, sustainably made items, then perhaps the solution is to abstain from buying and to own less clothes - rather than to encourage companies to produce cheaper versions using destructive practices, under-compensated human labour, and harmful synthetic materials.
But putting the politics of this aside, one fascinating - and somewhat funny - thing I’ve observed is a sort of reverse effect of the dupes phenomenon: When dedicated sustainablists see an item they like from a ‘fast fashion’ brand, and look for the original that inspired it - in order to consume responsibly. This can result in much hand-wringing. A friend of mine runs into this problem with Zara. She loves their styles and fit, but would rather not purchase from them. So when Zara launches a new collection, she takes to the online forums and frantically searches for the ‘anti-dupes’ - the original pieces which inspired the Zara releases. Her success rates are mixed.
Recently I got a taste of this myself, upon experiencing a wardrobe malfunction whilst out for the day in the city. Without going into too much detail, let’s just say I urgently needed a new pair of bottoms. I nipped into H&M and grabbed a pair of jeans in a decent colour and style. They turned out to be on sale for the obscene price of €10. To my surprise, the jeans fitted well. Moreover, they proved so comfortable, I have been wearing them ever since - favouring them over the nicer, much-researched pairs I own from respected B-Corp brands. It would be dishonest not to admit, this has given me uncomfortable feelings!
It gets worse. Whilst at H&M, I noticed some lovely shirts that had just arrived as part of the new season collection. They were flannel, but in solid colours and subtle pinstripes rather than the typical checkers and plaids such fabrics usually come in. Exquisitely soft, 100% cotton brushed flannel shirts, with a lovely fit (might as well try them, out of interest whilst changing into the jeans, right?).
I would not consider myself a conscious consumption extremist - in the sense that I do not categorically boycott fast fashion brands. But I do generally avoid them, in favour of smaller manufacturers with traceable production processes. So I left the flannel shirts alone, and later at home searched for similar ones from companies I was more comfortable with. I tried all the usual suspects, but could not find the anti-dupes. Flannels yes, some even in solid colours - but not quite the same style or overall vibe. The H&M ones were relaxed and somehow feminine at the same time, in soft yet complex neutral shades. Surely the Swedish mass manufacture giant did not come up with the design themselves? And yet the anti-dupe evaded me.
Long story short, I now own a pinstripe flannel shirt from H&M, in addition to the emergency wardrobe malfunction jeans. Today I wore them together, with pleasing results. To complete the theme, I added a rather perfect cotton tank from Marks & Spencers, which I prefer to its Me+Em anti-dupe. And finally a pair of Prada-inspired sunglasses from Jigsaw, which I chose over the sadly less comfortable originals a couple of years ago.
What am I trying to say with this story… Well, I do not have a perfectly formed conclusion. But I do think the very notion of conscious consumption, sustainable shopping, and that entire genre, tends to be somewhat misinterpreted.
What makes an item sustainable is not just the manner in which it was produced. But equally importantly, the manner in which it is consumed. If a piece from a fast fashion brand will result in greater comfort, more wear, and fewer additional purchases, then arguably it is a conscious and sustainable choice. Conversely buying from a more artisanal and traceable manufacturer on principle despite the items being sub-optimal for one’s personal preference, can result in not-so-sustainable practices, such as not wearing the item and continuing to shop around for ‘better’ versions.
Whether searching for dupes or anti-dupes, and regardless of one’s budget, it is helpful perhaps to look at the bigger picture… which includes ourselves as active participants in the fashion industry.
