The other night, I was scrolling through TikTok - which I’m known to do on nights that my brain can’t handle anything but a baby pygmy hippo being splashed with a hose - when I came across a creator excitedly showing off what she believed was a black version of the infamous and much sought-after yellow gown worn by Kate Hudson in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.

I watched intently as she showed it off. Although I’m not a big thrifter, I love watching others present their prized “grails.” The creator cozied up to the camera and proudly showed off a label that read “Jovani.”

Now, there’s nothing wrong with the 1990s/2000s prom queens at Jovani, but the designer behind the original yellow dress they are not. 

@thesaltysp2n Im obsessed #howtoloseaguyin10days #andyanderson #backlessdress #thrift ♬ som original - ☆ edits by me

This gown was one of the many, many knockoffs of the iconic original designed by Vera Wang that entered the market following the film’s release in 2003.

I popped down to the comments to see if anyone had broken the gal’s heart yet. And, of course, because there’s nothing more the internet loves to do than tell someone they're wrong, someone quickly pointed out her error.

But the girl’s response is what interested me. She did not care. She loved the dress – why should she care if it was the original?

"In many ways, dupes are part of American fashion’s DNA."

Currently, knockoffs are undergoing a brand refresh. Now, copycat designs of high-end pieces are deemed “dupes.” No longer a shameful alternative if you can’t afford the real thing, but rather a cunning option for those hard-to-find or impossible-to-afford looks.

(Dear reader: I find it important to note here that we’ll be discussing dupes of high-end designer pieces for this article. Knocking off small designers, artists, and creators is never in style.)

This brings us to the question I’ve had on my mind: Where do “dupes” lie in the pantheon of vintage fashion?

In many ways, dupes are part of American fashion’s DNA.

Elizabeth Hawes, one of American fashion's founding mothers, started as a “sketcher.” An early 20th century practice where US manufacturers sent artists aka "sketchers" to Paris during Fashion Week to stealthily draw the styles as they walked down the runway. Balenciaga, Vionette, Chanel... no designer was safe from this "entrepreneurial" American effort.

The drawings would be smuggled back to the States (this practice was very much illegal) for American manufacturers to knock off.

(If this subject interests you, I HIGHLY recommend checking out Julie Satow’s book “When Women Ran Fifth Avenue.” Coming soon to HI Book Club near you, perhaps…)

In those early days, knockoff Chanel shifts mingled amongst the real thing in the lobby of the finest hotels in Manhattan. American fashion was dupes until American Sportswear emerged and found its voice.

So, which vintage pieces have we come to love that are dupes of their own?

On the left, a Gene Shelly dress. A collectible vintage designer who was most prolific in the 1960s. A brand known for their wool knit sequin “wiggle” dresses that look heavenly on.

On the right, a 1960s knit sequin sheath with a boutique label.

Small differences in style set them apart; no internal waistband on the dress on the right. A slightly more complex sequin patterning is used for the Gene Shelly one on the left.

But both are gorgeous, excellent condition 1960s sequin beauties.

Even Victor Costa, a Happy Isles favorite, was known outright as the “King of Copycat” in his heyday. (So much so that his memoir is entitled “Copycat.”) But his gowns were loved and worn by the likes of Brooke Shields and the Nixon daughters.

Left: A look from Saint Laurent 1972 Couture. Right: A look from Victor Costa Spring 1973.

Christian Lacroix once said of Costa, “We love Victor Costa. He copies very well.” Which I can’t help but think speaks to the way high-end designers view people like Costa. They are part of a larger eco-system of fashion. A presence that fuels sales and the allure of having the real thing.

Now, Victor Costa gowns are almost as sought after as the originals they reference.

So, while we might be quick to correct our TikTok thrifter or turn our noses up at the rows and rows of Alaia fishnet, Mary Jane dupes that line the metaphorical shelves of the internet at the moment. I can’t help but think in fifty, sixty years, they’ll be loved as much as the "real" thing…

(Photos: Getty Images)