It’s approaching 10am on Wednesday morning. ‘Four minutes girls! Four minutes to make a purchase! Go, go, go! Order before 10am for next day delivery,’ shrieks a young blonde woman into her phone camera as music blares in the background.
She is a seller for RiRi – a company based in east London specialising in hair extensions.
As orders come through from the 100 people tuning in live, she packs the orders frantically on camera, ringing a bell every time one is completed. ‘Make sure you’re checking out RIGHT NOW to be involved!’
I am scrolling through the TikTok ‘Live’ tab – a never-ending carousel of ‘creators’ broadcasting live on the wildly popular app to anyone who will watch.
And, where the feature was once used predominantly by ‘influencers’ to speak candidly to their fans, it has now become a reincarnation of the shopping channel QVC for thousands of brands and sellers targeting Gen Z – those born between the late 1990s and 2010 – and a form of retail that threatens to turn on its head the way my generation shops online, leaving e-commerce giants such as Amazon and Temu in the dust.
One swipe on my iPhone takes me to the next live stream. This time it’s a woman selling teeth whitening strips. ‘The flash sale deals are only on ’till 11am – so get on that!’ she bellows.
The next is a large man called George Keywood – otherwise known as ‘FatTechHead’ – sitting at a desk, selling iPads. He brags to viewers that he has made £100,000 selling on TikTok in just two months and that he wakes up at 7am to live stream every day.
TikTok Shop – the integrated commerce arm of the Chinese video-sharing giant – is booming.
TikTok Shop – the integrated commerce arm of the Chinese video-sharing giant – is booming
Born in 2016 under the watchful eye of its Beijing-based parent company ByteDance, the app initially quickly became a sensation in Asia through its unnerving algorithm. By tracking every ‘like’, comment, share and even the time you spend watching clips, TikTok builds an ever-changing profile of your preferences with eerie accuracy.
As a result, by 2020, the app was a household name globally, cementing its place as the go-to platform for Gen Z and millennials, killing off competition from other social media companies including Facebook and Instagram.
And now come attempts to cash in – big time. Rolled out in 2021 in the UK as its first market outside Asia, TikTok Shop allows users to purchase products directly within the app. In China, it sold $16 billion worth of products in 2023, alone.
Initially, the take-up in the UK was tepid, but that has changed in the past year. There are now more than 200,000 sellers on the app, double the number at the end of 2023.
When I tried out TikTok Shop myself a few weeks ago, it was easy to see the appeal. There are no clunky redirects to other websites in order buy something – just swipe, click and your purchase is on its way to you.
After setting up my address and payment details, I could buy any product that appeared on my feed within just four taps on my iPhone (the app, of course, saves your credit card details).
Convenient, yes. But the way that TikTok blends entertainment with retail is dangerously irresistible – as I soon found out.
As part of my investigation into TikTok Shop, I bought a selection of items.
Some were ‘viral’ (popular) products that were repeatedly pushed on my homepage: a lip stain from make-up brand Sacheu reduced from £12 to £10 – recently used in a video by pop star Billie Eilish – a ‘mystery beauty bundle’ for £25 (allegedly with a value of over £60) and teeth whitening strips by a brand called MySmile, reduced from £24.99 to £14.99.
I also ordered a children’s electronic toy in the shape of a vending machine for £28 that had received rave reviews. When it arrived, it was plasticky and cheap looking.
By tracking every ‘like’, comment, share and even the time you spend watching clips, TikTok builds an ever-changing profile of your preferences with eerie accuracy
Slightly better was a Polaroid-style camera for kids which, for £12, was surprisingly good quality, and which printed out the pictures on paper rather than photographic film. I also got a leopard-print handbag for just £6.69 through a user advertising it in one of her videos, plus a striped pair of trousers for £9.39 and a pair of sunglasses for just £2.09 – prices you might expect from other Chinese e-commerce giants such as Temu or Shein.
In fact, I found almost identical products to these were available on Shein – and all were more expensive than TikTok, which even included free delivery.
Given all of these items were shipped from China – and took almost two weeks to arrive – I suspect they may have come from the same warehouses as items sold through Temu or Shein. This is because sellers on TikTok Shop often source products directly from manufacturers in China, eliminating middlemen and keeping production costs low.
But what distinguishes TikTok from Shein and Temu is the availability of more… unusual items, including many made in Britain.
I ordered a kilo of sirloin steak from EverFresh, a butcher based in Milton Keynes, after seeing a lively endorsement by a creator.
Intrigued and slightly sceptical at first, I was stunned when the steak arrived the very next day, perfectly packaged and looking as good as promised.
The same went for a British sourdough starter – the liquid culture used to make the bread rise – which came two days after I ordered it. And a pack of 90 – yes, ninety – loo rolls for just £21. That’s about half the price you’d pay in a supermarket for the same amount.
And while many goods are sourced from mega warehouses in China – like the fashion items I received – you can also buy products from reliable and verified evergreen brands, including L’Oreal or Charlotte Tilbury.
Luxury resale platform Luxe Collective now lists items on TikTok Shop too – so without leaving the app, you can buy a second-hand Hermes Birkin bag – for £9,250.
These sellers also use the ‘livestream’ feature. When I tuned in to one such channel, a slick-looking young man was persuading viewers to buy a Prada clutch for £470, a Balenciaga handbag for £920, and various other luxury goods.
So how does TikTok Shop make money? The answer is simple: the firm takes five per cent of the sale price of items as commission, although it has been reported that TikTok attracts sellers by lowering – or even waiving entirely – this rate for the first 90 days.
The fee is lower than on Amazon, where the exact rate varies by product category, but is generally between 8 and 15 per cent.
Then there’s TikTok’s ‘affiliate programs’ – another way the app allows sellers to flog their products. If a user has more than 1,000 followers on their channel, they can create a video promoting a product they have either bought or been sent for free.
If someone buys that product as a result, the user also receives a 5-20 per cent commission on the sale. In a nutshell, both sellers and buyers can make money through the app.
Plus, as it gets itself on its feet, TikTok has been willing to subsidise sellers while offering generous incentives to customers – such as discounts and free shipping.
In July, TikTok Shop UK announced the launch of The £1Million Club, an incentive scheme to lure new sellers, offering ‘free [product] storage and fulfilment [of delivery]’, a ‘seller support priority service’, and ‘dedicated promotion support for merchants, ensuring that merchants’ brands and products can get more exposure and attention through campaigns – all covered by TikTok.
Clara Gaspar purchased these Pick and mix sweets for £12.82 (for two) on TikTok shop…
…as well as this beauty bundle for £25
As Zaheer Abbas from EverFresh butcher – who sold me my sirloin steak – tells me: ‘There are a lot of incentives for both sellers and buyers on TikTok.
‘We get quite a lot of organic traffic to our store front [from TikTok users] and to our website – which is better than spending a lot on Google adverts or other social media marketing companies.
‘TikTok is spending a lot of money offering free deliveries to customers and discounts, which are reimbursed to us by TikTok, so we don’t lose any money.’
And for some, the platform can indeed be very lucrative. This year, make-up artist Mitchell Halliday, founder and CEO of British beauty brand Made By Mitchell, became the first brand in the UK to hit $1 million (£780,000) in sales in one day on the app – on the first day of TikTok Shop’s Summer Sale.
Halliday hosted a marathon 12-hour live stream, which offered flash discounts on a range of his brand’s most viral products.
TikTok’s shopping model, however, is not without its drawbacks and controversies. Critics argue it encourages impulse buying, leading users to spend money on items they don’t need or even truly want.
The constant barrage of product recommendations can be overwhelming, and the seamless integration of entertainment and commerce makes it difficult to distinguish between genuine recommendations and sponsored content – especially if you’re a teenager or a young child, like many of TikTok’s users are.
(TikTik requires users to be over 13 – but the age verification process has been criticised in the past for not being strict enough.) Even worse, once you’ve shown interest in an item – either by clicking on it to look at or adding it to your digital shopping basket – TikTok then launches a kind of online bombardment campaign to persuade you to buy it.
For example, I clicked on a £300 coffee machine made by the high-end kitchenware brand Sage – and within 10 minutes of scrolling on the app, I was shown eight different adverts for the same product.
Then there’s the issue of counterfeit and unregulated goods. TikTok Shop’s rapid growth and lack of stringent oversight have made it a fertile ground for sellers of fake or dangerous products.
From knock-off designer handbags to imitation electronics, the platform has been criticised for not doing enough to weed out unscrupulous sellers.
TikTok says it takes intellectual property infringement seriously, and that those breaking the rules could be banned from the platform.
An investigation by consumer watchdog Which? found a number of toys for sale that it claimed could choke, cut or strangle a child. Researchers bought two baby toys – a ‘sensory fidget’ toy and musical car keys – from TikTok Shop. These broke into pieces during testing.
‘Both should have been strong enough to withstand this kind of test,’ Which? insisted.
A spokesperson for TikTok said: ‘These items have been removed from TikTok Shop. The safety of our customers is our utmost priority, and we have strict measures in place to ensure that our sellers comply with regulations and safety standards.’
Intrigued about the checks and restrictions on TikTok Shop, I tried to sign up as a seller. All I had to do was upload a copy of my driving licence and passport and within four minutes I’d been approved to sell on the platform.
The app’s reliance on influencers and creators to promote products means there’s often little accountability when things go wrong.
In recent years, the Advertising Standard Agency (ASA) has upheld complaints against a number of TikTok posts for not making their commercial intent sufficiently clear.
The ASA this year said: ‘When it comes to TikTok, there are many products that are simply not permitted to be advertised on their platform and as such they do not offer support or dedicated tools to accommodate or target such ads.’
This not only undermines trust but also poses a significant challenge for legitimate brands trying to protect their reputation.
Justyn Lawson, of Pulsio – a sports retailer selling items such as massage guns – who recently made the decision not to list on the app, told me: ‘Platforms like TikTok Shop – designed to trigger impulse buying – often push brands into a race to the bottom on price, sacrificing consistent product quality, customer loyalty, customer service and ethical standards. We’d rather focus on delivering products and customer-friendly experiences.’
Another concern is the impact of TikTok Shop on small businesses and local retailers. While the platform does, theoretically, provide a space for independent sellers to reach a global audience, it also fosters a culture of hyper-competition in which only the most viral products thrive.
Smaller sellers without the resources to create flashy videos or secure influencer endorsements often struggle to gain visibility, making it difficult to compete.
So yes, it might take a few years for TikTok Shop to get everything right during its rollout in Britain. But this uncomfortable fusion between a social media platform and a shopping app poses myriad risks for sellers and customers.
Many young people are already dangerously addicted to social media. It seems deeply sinister that TikTok Shop is seemingly trying to make them online shopping addicts, too.
My TikTok shop bonanza
- 90 loo rolls: £21.10
- Pick and mix sweets: £12.82 (for two)
- Children’s ‘polaroid’ camera: £12.06
- Beauty bundle: £25
- Lip stain: £10.80
- Set of three cast iron frying pans: £28.79
- Trousers: £9.39
- Hoodie: £8.09
- Electric blanket: £33.99
- Leopard print bag: £6.69
- Sunglasses: £2.09
- Teeth whitening: £14.99
- Kids vending machine toy: £28.09
- Steak: £25.99
- Sourdough starter: £10