Fake and reality!

NhThe important thing is not the counterfeit goods, but the psychology that makes people willing to spend money, even borrow, to put on the cover of branded goods. It is the psychology of brand worship - and more deeply, the desire to be recognized, to be seen and to be respected.

Not everyone who buys fakes is poor. Not everyone who uses fakes doesn’t know they’re fake. But many choose to do so because they want to enter a world where, just carrying a Chanel bag, real or fake, is enough to be called “luxury”. They buy a small dream, wrapped in a logo, in the fleeting admiring glances of others. In a society that increasingly values ​​appearance, owning a brand becomes a kind of silent “passport” that helps us pass through the doors of prejudice.

Why do we crave recognition so much? Is it possible that deep inside each person is a void, a place waiting to be filled by a nod from others, by an appreciative look, or an unintentional compliment? This psychology is not unique to anyone. It is instinct. It is the search for the feeling of being valuable, of belonging to a certain group of people, of being more classy, ​​more beautiful, more proud. And in a world where human value is often measured by what they consume, branding becomes the fastest "language" to assert oneself.

The French philosopher Baudrillard once said that in a consumer society, people no longer consume things because of their needs, but because of the symbolic meaning they represent. A bag is no longer just for storing things, but to show that we “belong” to a class. A phone is no longer just for communication, but to prove that we are not left behind. And these things, whether real or fake, can create a temporary illusion: I am valuable, I am seen. According to Yuval Noah Harari, author of the famous book “Sapiens – A Brief History of Humankind”, luxury goods and brands are a “collective fiction”, that is, things that do not exist objectively in nature, but are believed and recognized by all of us as valuable. A Louis Vuitton bag is just a few pieces of leather and seams, but because millions of people believe it is luxurious, it becomes a symbol of class.

A young person can skip breakfast for a month to buy a pair of fake shoes that look exactly like the original. A girl can buy a fake Dior bag just to take a virtual photo. They do it not because they are ignorant, but because they believe that without that item, they will be left behind. They will not be as beautiful as others, not as outstanding as others, not as worthy of admiration as others. And so, real or fake luxury goods become a mask. It is beautiful, it is bright, and it helps us get through the days when we feel too small in a world that seems to have many eyes on us?

Polish sociologist Zygmunt Bauman calls modern society a “liquid society,” where everything is fluid and uncertain. In such a world, people cling to consumption as a way to affirm: “I exist.” I have a fancy bag, I have a new phone, I have shoes like a famous singer, which means I am not invisible. But sadly, such recognition often lasts only a moment. Behind a beautiful photo is emptiness. Behind the compliments is the feeling of exhaustion of having to keep buying, keep chasing, keep maintaining one’s image from falling apart.

We live in a society where social media and advertising have taught us that if we are not beautiful, not classy, ​​not “tasteful”, we are not worthy of being heard, seen and remembered. Brands have become symbols of success. And so, people are willing to accept fake things, as long as they look real. It is a painful compromise – between self-esteem and the desire for recognition. But what would happen if we stopped, looked at ourselves, and asked ourselves: “Am I still me, without those things?” The question is simple, but can make us dizzy. Because sometimes, behind the brand shell is an entity that is too used to living by the eyes of others. We no longer eat to be full, wear to be warm, but eat to show off, dress to impress. We no longer live as ourselves but live as the version that society wants us to become.

The psychology of brand loyalty, if not enlightened and understood, can lead us to a life of pretense, chasing after illusions. Counterfeit goods may be cheap, but the price to pay for a borrowed identity is not cheap. Because once we let others define our worth through what we wear, we have given up the right to be ourselves.

And perhaps, the most courageous thing in this world of illusions is not to own expensive things, but to dare to live truly, simply, without having to prove anything. Because then, we will realize: true value is not in the bag we carry, but in the way we walk, whether or not there is a famous logo beside us.

But if consumers are one side of the picture, the other side, the counterfeiters, also has a story worth pondering. Who are they? Are they just people who disregard morality for profit? Or are they people forced to exist in a system where authenticity leads to poverty, and counterfeiting leads to livelihood?

Many counterfeit factories are located in dark alleys, poor rural areas where people have few options. A young worker can be hired to assemble a “Chanel” bag without ever knowing what a real one looks like. They work from molds, samples, orders from invisible brokers. For them, it is work – a way to earn a living, raise children, pay off debts. They do not think much about the concept of “fake”, but only think about today’s meal.

There are also those who run sophisticated, large-scale, and profitable counterfeiting chains. At that higher level, counterfeiting is no longer a matter of bread and butter, but a business strategy. They play on the psychology of consumers: wanting to be classy, ​​but not having enough money. Wanting to stand out, but not having enough prestige. And they offer a substitute that looks similar, is cheaper, and is easier to obtain. A silent but effective substitution. In a society where brands are a cover for dignity, counterfeiting is also a product of an unbalanced system. There, counterfeiters are not necessarily bad guys, they are people who contribute to maintaining a collective illusion in which, from the maker to the buyer, everyone is playing a role to live, to be recognized, or simply to survive. And don't forget that counterfeiters are often also consumers of other counterfeit goods. A worker assembling "LV" bags in a factory may be wearing fake Nike shoes bought at a night market. A counterfeit factory owner may be using a “hand-carried” phone with a foreign label but cheaply assembled components. The counterfeit spiral is a supply chain and also a psychological chain, where the creator of the illusion is also the one living in that illusion. Because when the real value becomes a luxury, both the seller and the buyer are forced to look for an alternative version even though they know it is not the truth.

We need a more balanced view: not just criticizing counterfeiters, but also asking why they exist? Is it society that has created such a huge demand for counterfeits? And if we want to eradicate counterfeiting, we need not only laws but also changes in how we define success, beauty and human worth.

Counterfeit goods are a material counterfeit. But more dangerously, they reflect a rift in the trust in real values ​​of both consumers and producers. To heal, we must start with the truth, by daring to live truthfully, do truthfully, and believe that the truth, though not flashy, still has its own weight that cannot be replaced.