DROWNING in DUPES

As influencer and TikTok culture pushed products to cult status, the dupe (short for duplicate) craze was born. It started as an attempt to find alternatives that were cheaper, or at least available. But today, dupes have taken over the originals, proving shoppers will buy anything - except the real thing.

- Sangeeta Singh-Kurtz

In retrospect, the mirror was always ridiculous. Bordered in faux gold and crowned with baroque molding, Anthropologie's Gleaming Primrose Mirror is 2.1 metres tall and costs $US1,600. And yet the moment I saw it on TikTok, I was possessed by the overwhelming urge to own it immediately. I couldn't afford the real thing, so I followed one commenter's advice and searched for a dupe - a cheaper alternative that should, in theory, look as good as the original for a fraction of the price.

A brief search on TikTok revealed dozens of Gleaming Primrose dupes. The most popular video recommended one for $150 (all prices are in US dollars), but it was sold out. I kept scrolling. Overstock dupe? Also gone. Ikea's wouldn't arrive until December. Another version was $175 without molding (so just a regular mirror?). An influencer sent me to Amazon, where the mirror was available for $125.99. I was about to check out when I realised the item in my cart was 3cm tall - a creepy little dollhouse mirror! Other videos suggested I make the mirror for $20 before I was lobbed back to Amazon, where I finally bought a dupe from the affiliate page of someone named Juliana, who has 2 million followers. It was $100 and arrived last week. It's the wrong size and looks awful. The glass is distorted, and when I stand in front of it I look like I'm in a fun house.