From fake footwear to fishy bank charges and strange ‘speakers’.

It feels like spam, slop and scams are everywhere in 2025. And last month was a particularly bad month for it here in New Zealand. As Netsafe reported, we lost 220% more money to online credit card scams in October this year compared to previous months. Phishing, malware, ransomware – the oldies are all still around, but now we also have AI to contend with. Something like half of spam emails are now written with it, and everything from fake podcast clips to movie trailers for movies that don’t exist are fooling people. It’s Scam and Fraud Awareness Week and with the holidays in view (high season for scams) it’s a good time to be on guard. With that, here are a few moments where we’ve been duped.

Sandals

Every December, I experience the same sudden realisation: I need a pair of sandals. I scour the internet with great urgency, fall in love with something out of my price range, and then give up on the process entirely.

A couple of summers ago, I thought I’d struck gold: an international website with the exact Marni sandals I wanted for a third of the price. The site looked pretty janky, but I convinced myself that was how everything was so cheap. The company was just saving on overheads! Ignoring all logic, I ordered the sandals. When I got a confirmation email and even a tracking number, I was thrilled. 

A few days later, I checked my credit card statement – not one, but four transactions from the company had come through, each one larger than the last. 

My bank was great. They cancelled the card, issued a refund, and told me that websites that mirror your search history were becoming more common. Still, I was left feeling embarrassed and a little heartbroken, still pining for my shoes. Adding insult to injury, a package arrived two weeks later – a pair of children’s white canvas sneakers.

I still haven’t found my summer sandals. Maybe this year. / Amber Easby

Many scams involve fraudsters pretending to be someone trustworthy. ‘Confirmation of payee’ checks ensure the name on the account matches the name you’ve entered. Take a sec to check that any payment you’re making returns a match. Learn more here.  

‘Speakers’

I love to listen to music while cooking. For years, I just used my iPhone for this. With tunes blaring out of the tiny-ass and tinny-as speakers, I’d dance around the kitchen whipping up all kinds of things. For me, this was perfectly fine. For my partner, who considers himself something of an audiophile, not so much. I can solve this problem, he thought, and set out to buy some high-quality speakers for our kitchen. Never one to buy tech new, he scoured listings on a very popular secondhand marketplace, found some speakers that looked great, and ordered them. A week later a slim manila envelope arrived in our mailbox. I slit it open and out slid a thin sheet of metal with a photo of the speakers printed on it. The exact same lead photo from the listing. Here I was, trying to upgrade my tinny speakers, only to end up with a literal piece of tin. We lodged a complaint with the platform, but they came back with a “sorry, nothing we can do” reply: goods that matched the listing had been received. We were gutted initially, but eventually laughed about it. / Liv Sisson

Fishy credit card charges

My sister and brother-in-law had a BBQ for a special occasion. There were quite a few people there, and a few kids – not all of us knew each other. Their PlayStation was set up, and the kids were welcome to play on it. It was a beautiful day, so for the most part my kids were outside playing – although they did spend about 20 minutes racing cars on the PlayStation.

The next day, my sister calls me, freaking out, because two unexpected charges totalling around $400 had appeared on their account. She now had the awkward task of contacting all the parents to ask if their children had made any in-game purchases. I asked my kids, and they vehemently denied it. I believed them and knew they wouldn’t have known how to make a purchase anyways.

The strange thing was that the account statement didn’t specify what the purchases were for. After all the parents checked with their kids, and all the kids denied it, we all felt terrible and considered contributing to these mysterious charges. Before doing so though, I suggested my sister contact either the bank or PlayStation to get a clear understanding of the charges.

It turns out their account had been hacked, and PlayStation promptly refunded all the charges. Phew! Poor kids! / Gemma Spring

Keep your card details safer online. Westpac’s dynamic security codes change after 24 hours, which limits how long fraudsters can use your card details if they get them. Learn more here.

Mysterious rides 

My family and I were heading back home to California, but not before a lovely week in Puerto Rico to spend quality time with my dad.

We packed the week full of activities: zip lining, a beach BBQ, celebrating the 4th of July, and hitting up some water parks. We even celebrated my husband’s birthday, treating ourselves to a low-key dinner with pizza delivered via Uber Eats. My dad, being the good host he is, offered up his credit card, and I popped those details right into my Uber Eats account.

Fast-forward a few months, and the silly season is creeping up on us, which means… more Ubers! I’m taking cars everywhere – to town, to friends’ houses, to work events, when I get a call from my dad. “Have you been using my credit card in Christchurch?” he asked. “No way!” I replied, adding, “I don’t even have your number saved!”

My Dad then theorised about the Puerto Rico trip, suggesting I might still be using his details. In a classic regression to my 15-year-old self, I instantly denied it: “Absolutely not!” I told him I’d check my credit card statement and call him back. Sure enough, nary a penny had been spent on my own card for Uber. My dad was right!

A cute little phone call back followed, with my tail between my legs, and all was settled. I immediately deleted his credit card from my app. It wasn’t intentional, but it appears I accidentally reverse-scammed my own dad! / Elisa Rivera

Deep fake jandals

I’m a major planner/researcher type, almost all of my purchases involve weeks of agonising over making the ideal choice for the best price. In 2022 I’d been looking for some summer sandals for my kids and myself. I’d spent ages looking at different pairs of Tevas. Unfortunately, a byproduct of excessive research is eventually reaching a point where I go “fuck it!” and just order something. While in the middle of doing something else (and not paying proper attention) I chucked “tevas nz” into my search bar, clicked on what looked to be the (local) official site, and purchased the shoes. 

A day or two later I realised I’d never received a confirmation email. I returned to the website only to find some really obvious tells after looking around for a little bit. The T&Cs were non-specific garbage, all of the links to their socials were broken, and they were running a .com URL. This in and of itself isn’t a red flag for an international company, but it does mean they can avoid some of the stricter rules associated with selling from a .co.nz address. They never supplied the shoes (of course), and attempts to contact them didn’t result in anything useful.

 I got in touch with my bank as soon as I realised the purchase wasn’t legit, and they were eventually able to issue a chargeback on the basis of counterfeit goods. This involved contacting the legitimate company and confirming that the site I purchased from was not an official reseller. / Sacha Laird