In the not-so-distant past, when Corona was simply a beer and “TiK ToK” a beloved banger by Ke$ha, beauty dupes—less expensive alternatives to high-end products—were the fascination of keen-eyed sleuths.

Today, what’s changed isn’t their existence but their proliferation. The hashtag #dupes in TikTok’s beauty category has increased by 50 percent in the last year, according to market-research firm Spate, with nearly 20 million average weekly views. Now, dupes are louder and prouder than ever.

One unapologetic brand is Skincare Generics, which makes cut-rate dupes of products from Crème de la Mer, Dr. Barbara Sturm, and Augustinus Bader, among others. “There’s a lot of really expensive skin-care products that coin themselves as medical grade or pharmaceutical grade, and I thought it’d be a good idea to create a generic version,” says Will Henderson, the founder of Skincare Generics. “If you’ve ever bought any kind of prescription medicine, you have the branded medication and then you have a generic version, which is usually 80 to 90 percent cheaper.”

It’s a nice analogy, but Henderson fails to mention that generic medications can be made only after the patent on the brand-name drug expires, which is usually after around 20 years. This isn’t the case in beauty, where formulas are rarely unique enough to warrant patent protection, according to Diana Palchik, a trademark-and-business attorney and a principal of Beauty Mark Trademark Services.

Skincare Generics says it takes a scientific approach to duping, using publicly available ingredient lists and sensory details to create its copies. The brand boasts that it matches the original product by “80 and 90 percent”—whatever that means. It makes no effort to duplicate the expensive packaging, turning to plain white bottles and jars. Each one gets its cachet by adding the name of its inspiration on the bottle. The Lavish Cream, for example, compares itself to Augustinus Bader’s Rich Cream. The Hyaluronic Skin Serum name-checks Dr. Barbara Sturm. Subtle it is not.

While Henderson approaches duping from a clinical angle, others declare their copies as a benevolent, even generous act.

E.l.f. Cosmetics, the wildly successful brand known for its copies, recently launched a “Dupe That” advertising campaign, urging other brands to emulate its values and join the “parade of goodness” in democratizing beauty. While selling a $10 dupe of a $38 gel primer isn’t exactly saving the world, e.l.f.’s products are revered almost the way Uniqlo’s or Ikea’s are.

The Australian brand MCoBeauty insists its look-alikes provide greater accessibility to high-performing makeup and skin care. The brand started selling its blatant copies in Australian grocery stores, between the pastas and the canned goods. It’s now expanded to Kroger locations in the U.S. Maybe you’ve seen its Flawless Glow Luminous Skin Filter, a replica of Charlotte Tilbury’s Hollywood Flawless Filter.

“We don’t shy away from the word ‘dupe,’” Meridith Rojas, the chief marketing officer for North America at MCoBeauty, says. “We celebrate it. When somebody wants to find a lesser-priced alternative to something that’s viral and trending, they don’t just want a similar formula in less-than-ideal packaging. Our entire mission is democratizing luxury beauty. Everyone should have access to high-quality packaging and formulas.”

MCoBeauty now has Target’s stamp of approval, launching in 1,200 stores last month. While it’s not Target’s first rendezvous with a beauty brand known for duping, MCoBeauty seems to represent a new frontier of brazenness.

MCoBeauty has received its fair share of bad press for what appears to be a copy-and-paste strategy—including two lawsuits that were settled out of court. To meet the threshold for trademark infringement, the copy has to be confusingly similar to its inspiration, Palchik explains. Sure, MCo’s Baby Face Multiuse Cream Stick in the shade Chouchou looks and sounds like the Westman Atelier Baby Cheeks Blush Stick in Chouchette, but the color of the packaging is different, which might keep consumers from mistaking one for the other.

It’s the same argument that protected e.l.f. against a suit from Benefit alleging that e.l.f.’s Lash ’N Roll mascara infringed on trademarks for Benefit’s Roller Lash mascara. “Ultimately, Benefit has not shown that Lash ’N Roll, while it is a ‘dupe’ of Roller Lash, actually dupes any consumers,” the December 2024 decision reads.

Charlotte Tilbury hit back at dupe culture earlier this year with a campaign called “Legendary for a Reason.” It celebrates her award-winning products and claims they cannot be replicated despite the many attempts to do so. It’s an interesting approach, especially given that Charlotte Tilbury is one of the rare prestige brands that’s been successful at taking legal action against knockoffs.

Tilbury won a suit against discount retailer Aldi in 2019, alleging that its Broadway Shape & Glow highlighting palette infringed on her copyright for the Filmstar Bronze & Glow palette. The suit focused on specific copyrighted packaging rather than the entire trademarked product—details that MCoBeauty seems to avoid with its Tilbury dupes.

Tilbury’s campaign argues for originality and artistry, saying that her best-selling products contain something no one can copy: her talent and “33 years of artistry and expertise.” For those who value creativity and quality, a dupe is often just a weak imitation with a clumsy name.

Danielle Cohen is a New York–based beauty writer. Her work has appeared in Elle, Allure, Glamour, and Cosmopolitan, among other publications