Why are we obsessed with the fanged plush toy Labubu

It's not just a plushie. It's a passport to cool – a soft, fanged accessory that says: "I collect, I customize, I know what's trending globally."

Min Rui is a culture journalist and a special commentator for CGTN. She began collecting Labubus/Zimomos in 2022 and now owns a dozen of them. The following commentary reflects her personal views.

In the spring of 2025, a small, furry creature with pointy ears and nine sharp fangs unexpectedly captured the world's imagination. A Chinese climber carried it to the summit of Mount Everest. A fight broke out in a London toy store over it. It topped app download charts in North America. And in a stern Chinese customs bulletin about cross-border smuggling, it made an unlikely appearance – grinning wickedly.

Meet Labubu: the unlikely cultural phenomenon that's become the face of a new kind of global fandom. But why are people everywhere – from Bangkok to Brooklyn – obsessing over a toy that doesn't even have a backstory?

Let's start with a counter-intuitive idea: Labubu is conquering the world precisely because it doesn't tell a story.

A blank slate beats a complicated mythos

Unlike classic global IPs – think Marvel, Disney, or Harry Potter, Labubu doesn't come with lore. It has simple origin story, no cinematic universe, no comic book canon. What it does have is a mischievous smile, sharp little teeth, and a design so instantly recognizable that it introduces itself visually.

Created by Hong Kong designer Kasing Lung, Labubu is part of a line of plush monster-spirits with scruffy fur and a punky attitude. That's it. No backstory to learn. No movie to watch. Just vibes. And that's what makes it powerful.

In the age of TikTok and 15-second attention spans, Labubu's "lack of narrative" is its strength. It's open-ended. You don't have to buy into a universe, you just buy the toy, and it becomes what "you" want it to be, as you dress it up.

Labubu's addictive loop: Dopamine, social likes, and resale prices

Labubu isn't just a toy, it's a little dopamine factory disguised as a gremlin. The Pop Mart business model is built on the "blind box mechanic." Each toy is a surprise.

You don't buy a Labubu, you gamble for one. Each box is sealed, identity hidden. Will it be the common cutie, the elusive rare one you want, or - be still, your beating heart – the mythical "secret" edition? It's Vegas in vinyl, but with fur and fangs. Psychologists have a name for this: dopamine-driven intermittent reward schedules. Sounds fancy, but really? Humans just love scratching lottery tickets.

Next there is the social media snowball. Unboxing videos, hashtag challenges, doll makeovers, customization tutorials, and resale posts have turned Labubu into a participatory culture. Labubu isn't a toy, it's a co-star in your social feed, a spark for likes, shares, and "Where did you get that?!" comments. On TikTok alone, the #Labubu tag has over 1.2 million posts. Owning a Labubu isn't just owning a toy, it's entering a pop scene.

And finally, there's a big resale market. Rarity breeds resale, and resale breeds frenzy. That $13 blind box? Flip it for $80, $100, more – especially if it's a limited drop. In North America, certain Labubu charms go for over $100. On resale platforms, Labubu is no longer cute; it's currency. And just like art or crypto, part of the thrill is owning what others can't.

From toy to trophy: the celebrity effect

Labubu didn't stay in niche collector circles for long. Its leap from cult collectible to global obsession came with a sprinkle of stardust.

BLACKPINK's Lisa, Rihanna, Dua Lipa – even Thai royalty – have all been spotted flaunting Labubu as a designer bag charm. With that, the mischievous gremlin went from "cute toy" to "fashion symbol," signaling a taste for playful rebellion wrapped in luxury irony.

Pop Mart seized the moment with precision. The brand localized fast and smart: in Thailand, Labubu dressed up as a cultural "Tourism Ambassador" in traditional garb; in Singapore, it slipped into a mermaid tail. These whimsical nods to regional identity aren't just cute, they forge emotional resonance while stoking local hype.

But why are grown-ups the ones going crazy?

The most fascinating twist: Labubu's global fan-base is overwhelmingly adult.

Young professionals, fashion-forward men, overworked parents, even sneaker heads, they're the ones queuing outside Pop Mart stores and frantically refreshing app pages.

This is part of a broader cultural wave known as "Kidulting": adults embracing childlike joy to cope with very adult anxieties. From Beanie Babies in the 90s to Pokémon Go in the 2010s, adults have long had cycles of toy obsession. Labubu is simply the latest - and perhaps most socially integrated – expression of that.

It's affordable, portable, collectible, and endlessly customizable. More than that, it gives permission to be emotionally vulnerable in a chaotic world.

The future of IP may not involve stories at all

According to Pop Mart's 2024 financial report, overseas revenue surged 375%, largely thanks to Labubu. Morgan Stanley recently projects the company's international sales will double again by 2025. Pop Mart shares, listed in Hong Kong, have skyrocketed from HK$9 to over HK$220.

So what are we looking at? A plush toy? A cultural asset? A new kind of IP? Actually, all of the above. Labubu proves that in the age of visual virality, you don't need a story to build a brand. You just need a great character, a strong aesthetic, and a platform to let fans do the rest.

As the line between play, fashion, and finance continues to blur, Labubu might be just the beginning of a new wave: IP designed for attention, emotion, and participation – not for plot.

So next time you see a grown-up on the subway with a little, sharp-toothed creature hanging from their tote bag, don't dismiss it as childish. That's not regression, it's emotional resilience in plush form.