How we went goo goo for Labubu dolls: 'There's something primal about collecting them'

In this week’s edition of Why We Can’t Have Nice Things, Pop Mart has put Labubus on lockdown. Collectors love them for their toothy grins and fuzzy colours. Their rarity and desirability made the shop’s re-stocks a hot ticket event.

But last week, violence broke out at the Stratford Westfield branch of Pop Mart over a Labubu restock.

The adorable collectable bag charms beloved by Rihanna and Kim Kardashian are, for the uninitiated, basically the new Beanie Babies or Stanley Cups. Adult pacifiers, if you will.

Labubu is the creation of Kasing Lung, an illustrator born in Hong Kong and raised in the Netherlands. His book series The Monsters featured the character of Labubu, a mischievous but sweet elf that draws from Nordic folklore. Think of a rogue Moomin with more teeth.

While toy versions of Labubu have been on sale since 2019, in recent months the desire for them has reached fever pitch. Bag charms are incredibly hot right now — JellyCat has also seen its range of plush keyrings rocket in popularity — and Labubu dolls were the most desirable of them all. Then, the love for Labubu spilled over into fisticuffs on May 19.

“While waiting in line, my partner was physically assaulted by an individual who attempted to jump the queue and threatened to harm me,” said Instagram user kimxjulie, who arrived at Stratford Westfield at 1am. “The police were called, an official complaint was filed, and security staff were involved.”

TikTok user Karo arrived at 4am to get in line only to find queue jumpers behaving in a threatening manner. “They were screaming, they were intimidating us,” she said.

“A fight started. All I saw was someone get punched in the face and the security got involved.” Karo holds security accountable, however, for not de-escalating the aggressive queue jumpers.

Toria also witnessed chaos and danger as they waited in line, and shared their experience on TikTok. “There’s people in balaclavas running to the front, just surrounded the workers and grabbed all the tickets,” she said, as she warned people to avoid the area.

By May 19, Pop Mart had put a halt to physical sales of Labubus, which it was stocking in its stores at both Westfields and on Oxford Street, as well as a robotic vending machine in Canary Wharf, “To ensure the safety and comfort of everyone, we will temporarily pause all in-store and roboshop sales of THE MONSTERS plush toys until further notice,” said Pop Mart, citing “a significant rise in customer turnout on restock days.”

Devastated fans have been left to scramble for irregular restocks on the Pop Mart website. The store is now teasing a new system for purchasing the pint-sized bag charms. “We’re currently working on a new approach for the distribution that will allow everyone a fairer chance to purchase,” they announced on Instagram today. “Details about the launch dates and how to register will be announced soon.”

For some, it’s too little, too late. One collector named Nicole tells me the drama has taken some of the shine of collecting Labubus. “My love for Labubu, although still strong, has dimmed significantly in the last couple of months given this whole craze,” she says. “Not only has it lost its spark of having something that was part of a small iykyk [If You Know You Know] community,” she adds. “Consumers are behaving so inadequately trying to get one it makes me worry for my safety sometimes.”

When she began collecting Labubus back in January, she was searching for them in a Pop Mart with her best friend when they spotted a set in the stock room. A staff member told her they were returns – a faulty box set with duplicates — and that they could buy them if they didn’t mind that they had been opened.

“The store went silent when he bought the box out,” she recalls “Everyone was like, ‘oh my god, they’ve got Labubus.”

At this point, Nicole and her friend started to feel nervous. She selected two, her friend took three, and then someone snatched up the final one. After that, finding a Labubu became even harder. “I’m not in the business of trying to queue for hours and hours,” she says.

It’s not just that Labubus are victims of their own popularity. Their desirability is by design. Each themed collection is limited edition, like Exciting Macaron in pastel shades, or the new Big into Energy set with sparkly eyes, and rare or desirable ones can go for hundreds of pounds online. If you don’t snap them up when they drop, you’ll have to spend money buying from resellers (a point of contention in the Labubu community).

Along with being limited in numbers, just like the Beanie Babies of yore, they have another appeal: they’re sold in “blind boxes”. Opaque, identical packaging means the purchaser doesn’t know which colour-way they’re getting until they’ve bought and opened it. “There’s the gamble,” explains Nicole. “Unless you’re buying second hand, you can never predict what you’re gonna get.”

All this combines to activate our all-to-human desire to collect things. “They tap into something really primal,” says Nicole. “The blend of scarcity and unpredictability [are] experiences that have become increasingly rare in modern life, where convenience and instant gratification dominate our everyday lives.” Labubus, she reckons, are a recession indicator – something small yet potentially obtainable that people can fixate on in hard times. Plus, you can buy so many cute accessories for them – from tiny shoes to outfits, little bags and even a clear case to protect them.

The Labubu implosion hasn’t dimmed Nicole’s love for collectibles — far from it. Sonny Angels, tiny cherub figurines with cute hats, are one of her “holy grails”, alongside Blythe dolls (1970s posable dolls beloved as a customisable base) and Monchhichi (stuffed monkey dolls and keychains. “I just got back from Japan and bought over 20 Monchhichi toys,” she says. “I also spent hundreds of pounds on clothes for my new custom Blythe doll.”

It’s still unclear whether Pop Mart will be able to create a more sustainable solution to selling Labubus. But if fans are still hankering to collect, there are plenty of cute options out there. Or you can always go looking on the internet for Labubu’s janky twin — the fakes affectionately termed Lafufus.