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Unless you exist in a blissfully offline experience, you’ll have noticed Labubu hype is at unprecedented high. Even IRL, you can hardly move on the streets of major cities without being nudged by a handbag bedecked with the fang-toothed critters.
Personally, I love her. Yes, despite her gender-fluid appearance and undiscriminating appeal, Labubu is a girl. An elfin character first created by Hong Kong-born artist Kasing Lung, Labubu was conceived as part of a story series called The Monsters in 2015. Then, in 2019, Labubu evolved into the collectible toy market with a line of figurines that became available through a partnership with Chinese retailer Pop Mart. Later, they were developed into plush toys on keychains—perfect timing, to chime with the emerging trend of bag charms, trinkets, and toys in fashion; Pop Mart’s first Labubu keyring series was called the “Exciting Macaron,” and dropped in October 2023.
Inspired by Nordic folklore, the pastel shades of Labubu’s fluffy body and the gently devilish facial expressions that differ with each iteration of the character are the perfect blend of cute and ugly. She’s the latest in a long line of iconic characters that have emerged from Asia; Hello Kitty, Sonny Angel, and Gudetama are her foresisters. Pop Mart’s Cry Baby series seems to be following fast in her footsteps. Labubu has been spotted on Rihanna, Dua Lipa, and perhaps most notably, Lisa from Blackpink, who spoke to Vanity Fair about her obsession—certainly, one of the sparks that lit the match for Labubu’s now-worldwide domination.
But, as with anything that becomes too beloved, too hyped, too memed, the backlash has begun. In the UK, Pop Mart was forced to pull Labubu from stores after an altercation in a queue occurred in May 2025. Overzealous resellers, it seems, resorted to violence to get their hands on the coveted critters. Fans remain furious with the pause. Labubu is, after all, the number one piece to collect on resale platform StockX.
Some roll their eyes: Why are all these people—not even children—queueing for toys at a time like this? There are plenty of critiques from those harbouring hate—Labubu aren’t recyclable, they’re just a “recession indicator,” a part of so-called “regression core.” The mimetic desire they create feeds into the capitalist whirl of consumer culture! This type of collecting is a silly, frivolous pastime! As British Vogue’s Daniel Rodgers writes: “The Labubu is just another colorful flash on the internet’s radar: Something we consume for a few months until the next trend arrives, kicking off a fresh cycle of thinkpieces.”
Nevertheless: For those who love them—devotees are all around the world—Labubu is more than a keychain. Labubu equates to a lifestyle. For me, they’re a visual evolution of Maurice Sendak’s Where The Wild Things Are, one of my favorite books as a child, and a reminder of a simpler time. One of the ways Pop Mart has built intrigue into their model is by releasing Labubus in blind boxes. Buyers don’t know which iteration of Labubu is hidden inside. Videos of unboxings proliferate on TikTok. When I tried one for myself, I understood the thrill and the delight of meeting your very own cute character. I’m still only the proud owner of one Labubu, but I’m enthralled by the superfans who’ve made it their mission to collect more.
Now, in the light of such backlash, a series of Labubu lovers chat to Vogue, explaining their emotional connection to the plushie—with proud pictures of the character that sprung to meet them from the insides of their own blind boxes.
Freddie Powell, gallerist at Ginny on Frederick
I quit vaping, thank god, and picked up a tiny Pop Mart addiction instead. I’m still unsure what is healthier, cheaper, or less embarrassing. [My] hoarding started when I was in Seoul organising a Ginny on Frederick exhibition, The Vampire Problem?, last September at N/A. I was—and still am—pretty mind blown by the intricacies of the small vinyl Crybaby figures. I collected them all. The insane phenomenon of having a Labubu took hold. Camp, stupid, joyful—to both own and access—Labubu has taken over.
Ruby Redstone, writer and fashion historian
I am no stranger to the fiendish fandom of the toy collecting world. I came of age in the golden age of Ugly Dolls, Tokidoki, and the temple that was Kidrobot. As I careened towards teenhood, the toys I collected mirrored a bit of the turmoil I felt inside, equal parts cute and horrifying, covetable, and lonely. Little devils whose predicaments I understood innately, born from the random fate of a blind box into my hands. Who could be more representative of the duality of the modern age than Labubu: A girl—yes, a girl—with a burgeoning online presence and a penchant for mischief?
I love the phenomenon of adults attaching toys to their bags—I would never be one to gripe about this, even when it looks decidedly unchic. It s adorable! We re all out here on the subway with our little comfort stuffed animals clipped proudly to our purse for the world to see, for us to adore when we re having a low moment.
As a fashion historian, I’m never a fan of broad, reductive sentiments like, “when the market goes down, hemlines go up,” but it does seem very apparent that the deeper the world falls into political chaos, the greater the cultural appetite becomes for cute little tchotchkes. Just the other day, I came to the end of a really tough week and thought, “F*ck it, I’m going to Popmart.” There’s plenty of discourse about dopamine and depression in our society, but at the end of the day, there are much worse things one could do than go out and buy a little monster keychain. In fact, I’d argue it’s a net positive activity. Toy collecting was my introduction to artists like Takashi Murakami, Yoshitomo Nara, and Andre Saraiva. Trinkets can become a democratising force in bringing art into the homes of those who might not otherwise be able to participate in the art market or have hands-on, intimate experiences with unique works of art.
I love Labubu and all her compatriots because I have little kids. A toy on your bag is built-in entertainment! I’ll be honest and say that I don’t let them play with my most beloved Labubu, lest they get ketchup on her or something. I think it serves as a nice reminder to my little girls that they don’t need to give up their stuffed animals when they grow up. If they love something and it captures their imagination, I’d like them to hold onto it forever. I did!
Alex Kessler, deputy editor at i-D
There’s something exquisitely derailing about spiraling into a plush-toy addiction while emotionally regressing at your mother’s house in Chiang Mai—jet-lagged across three time zones, spiritually bankrupt, and one herbal compress away from a full breakdown. Then I met Labubu. Something in my chest snapped—and then instantly healed. One blind box in and I was no longer a man. I was mother, cradling a deranged little goblin with the reverence of a Victorian widow at a séance. The high of cracking that foil seal? Pure serotonin roulette. A friend said it’s like gambling, but worse—this is gambling with lore. I’m leaving Thailand not with peace or clarity, but with eight Labubus—and CryBabys—for myself, and seven more for desperate friends and fashion editors back in London. Is it dangerous? Probably. Does it feel good? Let’s just say I haven’t been this spiritually ejaculated since microdosing at the Dover Street Market sale.
Song-I Saba, fashion copywriter
Blind boxes are the perfect present for an indecisive and emotionally arrested generation. My boyfriend got me the Labubu from a reseller in Warsaw, Poland, and my friend Jonny gifted me this Twinkle Twinkle for my 33rd birthday. They act as sentimental souvenirs now. When futures are uncertain, we gamble on cuteness—Labubu is the collectible coin toss of late capitalism.
Tianwei Zhang, London/China market editor at Women’s Wear Daily
I never thought I would be going crazy over Labubu. I knew of it and saw the Thai princess Sirivannavari carrying one at a Hermès show, but I never really got into the whole Popmart/The Monsters universe until I started researching for a story at the end of last year. I spoke to early industry adopters like Bryanboy and Harry Lambert, and realized how relatively easy it was to source them here in London back then, before everyone jumped on it. So I quickly started a collection. I began with the plushes. I got the normal and secret ones, and then I started to collect regional exclusives like the Thai one and the Singapore one, which many refer to as the Merbubu. Just this week, I was able to get hold of what I call a Duckbubu, the latest plush that s only available in China via Popmart point redemption.
I also collect Labubu figurines. I began with the Labubu Sketch 400 per cent, and later, a friend of mine in Hong Kong helped me get a ComplexCon exclusive model. Earlier this year, I was also lucky enough to meet the creator of Labubu Kasing Lung at Dover Street Market, where he signed me a plush and a DSM exclusive black and pink figurine during the meet and greet. To me, Labubu represents the perfect combination of cuteness, mischievousness, and consumerism with the right amount of exclusivity—something a good old fashionholic like me can easily respond to.
