Think of the 1990s Beanie Babies craze, but on steroids. Born a decade ago as an obscure picture book character, Labubu has exploded into a multibillion-dollar toy empire and international pop-culture phenomenon. Supercharged by celebrity fandom and TikTok virality, these mischievous elves are in sizzlingly hot demand, from Alphas and Gen Zs snapping them up as cheap treats to fashionistas flaunting bag charm versions. They’ve fuelled shop-floor brawls, smash-and-grab thefts, dangerous fakes, resale prices that rival the cost of fine art, and even a bizarre conspiracy theory.
Read on to discover how this misfit range conquered the planet – and how Chinese parent company Pop Mart helped make it both a commercial triumph and soft-power juggernaut for Beijing. All dollar amounts in US dollars.
Labubu came to life in 2015 within The Monsters trilogy, a storybook series by award-winning Hong Kong-born artist Kasing Lung. Immersed in a fairytale world after moving to Europe as a child, Lung drew on a fascination with Nordic folklore and books by the likes of Edward Gorey and Maurice Sendak to create the now iconic character, which bears more than a passing resemblance to the monsters in Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are.
Labubu is a female woodland elfish creature, who, in her creator's words, is “mischievous yet endearing... and kind-hearted”, embodying a sort of duality in keeping with her ugly-cute aesthetic.
Labubu is one of seven characters making up The Monsters tribe, including Tycoco, her skeletal vegetarian boyfriend, and the leader of the pack, Zimomo, who sports a spiked tail. But Labubu's fame has totally eclipsed that of the others.
While Labubu is a single character within this universe, she now comes in hundreds of variations, from different sizes and colours to limited-edition collaborations and custom creations. So, how did this cheeky, jagged-toothed, pointy-eared elf make the jump from page to plastic and plush?
In 2019, cult art toy company Pop Mart bought the rights to The Monsters characters for an undisclosed price. Founded in 2010 as a discount variety chain by entrepreneur Wang Ning, the Beijing-based firm was already a force to be reckoned with.
By 2019, it had become China's leading art toy retailer, boasting 130 retail stores and 700 roboshop vending machines. Revenues had climbed tenfold from 2017 to reach $240 million (£177m), while profits were up from negative to over $14 million (£10m).
Pop Mart had rapidly created an enviable supply chain, from design to retail, and already counted several intellectual property (IP) hits, including the Molly and Pucky dolls.
The key to the chain's success lies in the pioneering blind boxes it first released with Molly in 2016: sealed packages hiding mystery figures, with only a slim chance of scoring a coveted 'secret' edition. This mix of chance and limited availability creates a dopamine rush of anticipation that keeps buyers hooked and coming back for more.
In December 2020, Pop Mart listed on the Hong Kong Stock Exchange. Shares doubled in price on debut, instantly valuing the company at over $14 billion (£10.4bn).
Investors were betting big on the blind-box model and the allure of art toys among China’s youth. Going public gave Pop Mart the firepower to expand internationally, sign new IP deals, and channel more money into marketing, laying the financial bedrock for Labubu’s eventual world domination.
Labubu's perfect combo of weird yet adorable made it stand out among Pop Mart's other offerings. Within China, myriad unboxing videos and rave reviews appeared online as the pandemic raged.
Starting out in 2.8-inch (7cm) plastic form, Labubus were available in several different colours and sizes, and as plush dolls by the end of 2022, when they skyrocketed in popularity in the People's Republic. Beleaguered by lockdowns, the Chinese public was seeking an emotional escape, and the fun and excitement of collecting these oddball dolls became hard to resist.
Pop Mart opened its first overseas store in 2020 in South Korea. But the company's international expansion didn't really take off until the worst of the pandemic was over, for obvious reasons.
In 2022 and 2023, the art toy chain put its foot on the accelerator and opened a slew of roboshop vending machines and stores in Southeast Asia, North America and Europe. No longer just a Chinese obsession, Labubu had gone international and was swiftly garnering a devoted global following.
The dolls came along at just the right time. With post-pandemic inflation squeezing budgets, hard-up Gen Zs and Alphas with limited purchasing power were seeking affordable pick-me-ups. Economists refer to this as the lipstick effect: the idea that when money's tight, small treats feel especially rewarding.
Starting at $20 (£15) or so, blind-box figures offered young people a dopamine boost, not to mention online bragging rights as videos of the creatures started cropping up on TikTok and other social media platforms.
In the meantime, Pop Mart was raising Labubu's global profile and expanding its offerings via a succession of big-name collabs, starting with a clothing range with Uniqlo in 2022. Labubu has since hooked up with Vans and Coca-Cola, as well as high-end fashion brands including China's Pronounce and Japan's Sacai.
In fact, the fashion world has fallen head-over-Louboutin-heels for Labubu.
Pop Mart got the ball rolling in October 2023 when it released the first of a series of blind-box charms. They swiftly caught the eye of trendsetters, from celebrity stylists to fashion influencers, and these early adopters started attaching them to their Hermès and Louis Vuitton handbags, particularly the rare 'secret' finds. Thus, a niche trend was born.
But the doll had yet to break into the global mainstream. That is, until a certain Thai-born K-pop superstar put her stamp on the craze.
In April 2024, Blackpink’s Lisa, a diehard fan of the dolls, began posting shots with Labubus on her socials. TikTok and Instagram blew up as fans and curious onlookers rushed to join the craze, while the haters only amplified the hype. The internet was awash with Labubu videos and memes as the doll went viral.
Pop Mart had pulled off something remarkable: creating a product with mass appeal that still felt edgy and niche. Sales went stratospheric, and the company doubled down on its ambitious international expansion plans.
The viral effect has been mind-boggling. On TikTok, clips tagged #Labubu, which range from unboxing videos to elaborate fan edits, have now amassed well over a billion views. Instagram has seen a similar surge, with Labubu charms and plushies styled like couture accessories racking up millions of likes. Meanwhile, one unboxing YouTube video has pulled in 214 million views.
The dolls’ omnipresence online has helped cement their must-have status, especially among the Alpha and Gen Z core market.
Labubu has amassed a legion of A-list admirers, from Rihanna, Dua Lipa, and Kim Kardashian to Post Malone and David Beckham. Madonna even had a Labubu cake at her 67th birthday bash in August.
Luxe customised Labubus have become the thing among the A-list. Dubbed the 'Labubu whisperer', designer Marko Monroe is the go-to. His premiumised creations have been snagged by Lady Gaga and Marc Jacobs, as well as Blackpink's Lisa. High-flying business moguls have been getting in on the act too, including Shark Tank star Kevin O'Leary, who is the proud owner of a bespoke Louis Vuitton Labubu.
Unofficial customisations aside, Labubu has spawned a resale market where the most sought-after dolls sell for ridiculous sums.
The scarcer 'secret' charms go for over $1,000 (£743), while special-edition collabs and extra-large Labubus fetch considerably more. A Labubu x Vans Old Skool doll sold for more than $10,000 (£7.4k) in July, a rare Sacai Labubu went under the hammer for $31,250 (£23.2k) the previous month, and the oversized versions have realised up to a staggering $150,000 (£111k).
With the demand for these dolls so fierce, scenes of chaos have erupted at launches. Last summer, police in famously orderly Singapore were called to a pop art show that turned nasty as attendees pushed and shoved to get their hands on a limited-edition Labubu.
And earlier this year, brawls broke out in the Pop Mart outpost in London's Westfield Stratford shopping centre following a drop, which prompted the chain to temporarily suspend sales of the dolls in all its stores in the UK capital “to prevent any potential safety issues”.
Beyond the hype, Labubu has fostered its own subculture. Collectors trade, auction, and authenticate pieces on Discord servers, Reddit forums, and WeChat groups that sometimes swell to tens of thousands of members.
Pop Mart’s own toy expos in Shanghai and Beijing have attracted hundreds of thousands of enthusiasts, with exclusive drops drawing fans from across the globe. For many, Labubu has evolved from a collectible into a fully fledged community.
Criminals keen to cash in have also joined the craze, particularly in California. In June, for example, thieves broke into a mom-and-pop store in Orange County and made off with several high-value Labubus.
The following month, a masked gang raided a retailer in La Puente and lifted $7,000 (£5.2k) worth of the toys. And in August, Labubu dolls valued at more than $30,000 (£22.3k) were stolen from a warehouse in Chino, though they were later recovered. The perps turned out to be two minors who worked at the facility.
Labubu’s popularity has unleashed an army of counterfeiters. Dubbed 'Lafufus', knockoffs have flooded platforms like DHGate, AliExpress, and TikTok Shop as well as market stalls around the world. In September, border agents in Seattle seized over $500,000 (£372.5k) worth of Lafufus, while data shows they also account for 90% of fake toys seized at the UK's border this year.
Some collectors have embraced them, with various beloved Lafufus taking on a cult-like status of their own. But authorities have warned of their dangers since they can be choking hazards and may contain toxic materials.
Pop Mart is fighting back aggressively with lawsuits. It recently won a case against a firm making 3D-printed replicas and is even suing 7-Eleven over lookalikes. Yet policing rip-offs is difficult, and they continue to be widely available.
Inevitably, Labubu has been labelled a carbon-heavy polluter, given the dolls are made from plastic, itself made from fossil fuels, and come in packaging that many critics see as wasteful. These environmental concerns threaten the dolls' popularity among eco-conscious Alphas and Gen Zs. But Pop Mart has got this covered. Well, sort of.
The chain has said it's working to reduce plastic pollution and is making 100% of its packaging recyclable or biodegradable.
Labubu mania has translated to breathtaking sales. Pop Mart's revenues shot up to $1.78 billion (£1.3bn) in 2024, more than double the 2023 total.
Profits are up 400% this year, and Pop Mart is forecasting turnover of $4 billion (£3bn). As you might imagine, the company founder, Wang Ning, has become very rich indeed. His fortune currently stands at $20.5 billion (£15.3bn) according to Forbes, a huge jump from the $1.8 billion (£1.3bn) he was worth in 2024.
With Labubu sales buoyant and the company riding high, Pop Mart stock has been surging. Its share price has climbed 1,624% since the start of 2024, delighting investors.
The most recent spike came in August as Pop Mart announced it would be releasing a new mini Labubu that can be clipped on to a smartphone, along with a long-haired version.
Labubu’s global success has become a cultural export as much as a commercial one. Analysts have noted that the dolls act as a potent soft power tool, spreading Chinese creativity and influence abroad.
Like K-pop for South Korea or anime for Japan, Labubu has shown how China can shape global pop culture. State media has celebrated the craze, and cultural commentators argue it's boosted Beijing’s image among youth worldwide.
The Labubu craze took a very strange turn this summer after internet conspiracy theories emerged linking the dolls to an Ancient Mesopotamian demon called Pazuzu that featured in The Exorcist movie. They claim Labubus mimic its scary, sardonic look and channel its energy.
Most fans have laughed off the fanciful theories. And as it turns out, Pazuzu charms were ironically worn to ward off evil. But some people have taken to burning their Labubus, while authorities in Iraqi Kurdistan have gone as far as confiscating and banning the dolls.
Interestingly, just as ancient Pazuzu charms once served as protective talismans, Labubu has taken on a similar role in Thailand. Special Labubu yantra-style amulets, some made of solid gold, are sold and revered as objects believed to bring luck, wealth and protection. Devotees sometimes take them to temples for blessings, though the practice has drawn criticism from traditionalists who view it as trivialising Buddhist ritual.
At the same time, Labubu enjoys a very different kind of prestige in Thailand: the dolls are also popular with members of the royal family, consolidating their status as both pop-culture craze and cultural touchstone.
Labubu’s very popularity may prove its Achilles' heel. Insiders warn that the more viral a craze becomes, the faster early adopters ditch it. And then everyone else. Some style leaders, who were once flaunting their Labubu bag charms with pride, are now dismissing them as overexposed and tragically 'cheugy' (uncool).
Whether Labubu can evolve is an open question.
Pop Mart’s revenues are heavily reliant on Labubu, leaving it exposed if the craze fades. China’s youth are facing high unemployment and slowing income growth, while regulators have signalled closer scrutiny of blind-box mechanics, which some critics liken to gambling.
Add to that the intense counterfeit competition and the risk of fad fatigue, and Pop Mart could find itself vulnerable. That said, the company has openly welcomed the slowing resale value of Labubus, telling CNBC: “Our products are made for people who really connect with the art and joy they bring... Making this art accessible is key for us. If purchases are solely for ‘making a profit,’ this model will eventually crash."
And Labubu hasn't been an out-and-out success in every part of the world. Take Japan. There, homegrown characters like Hello Kitty and Chiikawa still dominate shelves.
Experts say Japanese consumers prefer conventionally cute 'kawaii' aesthetics that clash with Labubu’s jagged, unsettling grin. Despite Pop Mart’s efforts, Labubu hasn’t broken through: proof that even global phenomena face limits.
Despite the challenges, Pop Mart is going from strength to strength. The chain now has thousands of roboshops and more than 530 themed stores in over 30 countries. It's opening many more this year, including an additional 40 stores in the US and 10 in the UK, and is eyeing untapped markets in the Middle East, Central Europe, and Latin America.
The Labubu range now encompasses dolls of all sizes and everything from cups to clothing, with Pop Mart keeping the buzz going with exciting new releases and collaborations.
Most impressive of all, Pop Mart’s bulging revenues and expanding footprint are fuelling some seriously lofty ambitions. The company is now positioning itself as an alternative Disney, with animated movies on the horizon. Its first theme park is already a reality, having opened in Beijing in 2023.
Even if Labubu proves to be a passing fad like Beanie Babies, its sharp-toothed grin has already carved a place in global pop culture and established Pop Mart as one of China’s most powerful cultural exporters to date.
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