That amount of money, much of it almost impossible for authorities to trace, attracts criminals looking to fund other illegal activities. Examples like the Charlie Hebdo attack, while not unheard of, are unusual, not only because of the extreme, public nature of the attack, but also because of the clarity of the link between the sale of counterfeit goods and the endpoint of the money trail—in this case, guns and a grenade launcher. Often it’s much more difficult to connect those dots, although they are most certainly connected in some way. According to Foucart and other experts interviewed for this story, profits from the sale of fakes have been traced back to sex trafficking, identity theft, gang violence, and the global drug trade. “Criminality begets other criminality,” he says. “Generally, what we see is a lot of these criminal organizations are not only involved with just counterfeiting.”

In some instances, counterfeit goods are produced in factories that rely on child labor and operate under sweatshop conditions in developing countries. “There are a lot of ugly things that go on to make this allegedly beautiful bag,” says Peter Moreno, a retired NYPD captain with 30 years of police experience, including investigating the sale of counterfeits on the New York subway system. “There's all kinds of kidnapping, dirty money.” Despite the relative ease with which shoppers can purchase these fake goods—on Instagram or picked up at a flea market in broad daylight—and the lack of consequence that ease seems to imply, doing so is far from a victimless crime. And it harms many more than just the companies whose profits are affected and whose creative work is ripped off. “The ultimate victim—or I should say, victims—in counterfeiting includes everyone involved,” Foucart says. “Everyone is harmed all along the way.”