Why Everyone is Obsessed with This Creepy Little Cutie
By Chris Wede
I used to think I was immune to the weird toy trend. I survived fidget spinners. I dodged Squishmallows. I even looked Beanie Babies in the eye and said, “Not today.”
But then… Labubu happened.
If you haven’t seen Labubu yet, allow me to introduce you to the scrappy little goblin who’s quietly stealing the hearts of Gen Z, toy collectors, and emotionally complex girlies everywhere. Labubu is a small vinyl figure with a permanently toothy grin, bug eyes, messy hair, and the kind of aesthetic that screams “I bite, but I’m lovable.” Created by Hong Kong-based artist Kasing Lung and popularized through the mega-brand Pop Mart, Labubu is part of the Monster series, but let’s be real: Labubu is the main character now.
Think of him as the lovechild of a gremlin, a Tim Burton sketch, and a chaotic best friend who always knows where the drama is. He’s creepy-cute. Ugly-adorable. Nightmarishly precious. And somehow, everyone wants one.
But why?
Monsters, But Make It Marketable
Labubu isn’t just a toy. It’s a vibe. A personality. A lifestyle, even. Pop Mart’s Labubu drops sell out faster than hot gossip in a girls’ group chat. Blind boxes (you don’t know which figure you’re getting until you open it) create a thrill that’s part surprise, part serotonin rush. And when you finally get that rare Halloween edition or limited pastel bunny Labubu? Chef’s kiss. Peak collector bliss.
There are entire TikToks dedicated to Labubu unboxings, Labubu room tours, Labubu makeup transformations, and yes, even Labubu ASMR. If that last part confused you, welcome to the internet in 2025.
But underneath the viral frenzy is something deeper. This isn’t just about toys anymore. Labubu has become a cultural statement.
The Rise of the “Creepy Cute” Aesthetic
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. Or rather, the goblin on the shelf.
Labubu is… not conventionally cute. And that’s the point.
In a world obsessed with polish, perfection, and pretty filters, Labubu is a rebellion. He’s not your pastel Kawaii bear or glossy Barbie. He’s the gremlin energy we all secretly carry, the one that’s tired, messy, a little unpredictable, but still trying their best to be lovable.
This is the era of “relatable ugliness.” And Labubu? He’s the poster child.
From fashion to filters, the internet is shifting from glossy perfection to glorified chaos. Think about the rise of “clean girl” vs. “feral girl” aesthetics. Or the fact that goblin mode literally won Oxford’s Word of the Year. We’re no longer pretending to have it all together. We’re embracing the mess emotionally, stylistically, and yes, even in our collectibles.
Labubu is us when we cry at 2 a.m. over a playlist, but also know we’ll rise like a phoenix by morning. He’s our inner child and our inner chaos gremlin rolled into one. He says, “I may look unhinged, but I’m also incredibly rare and highly valued.” Iconic.
Capitalism, But Make It Adorable
Let’s not pretend this isn’t also a well-oiled machine of brilliant marketing.
Pop Mart didn’t just create a toy. They created an economy. The scarcity model of blind boxes + limited editions = addictive purchasing. It’s like sneaker culture met anime fandom and had a beautifully toxic baby. People are hunting Labubus the way fashion girlies hunt Birkins. There are resale markets, Facebook groups, and even low-key black market trades (you didn’t hear it from me).
And yet, people aren’t mad about it. Because Labubu gives them something. Comfort. Nostalgia. Identity. The feeling of being part of a weird, whimsical world where the monsters are endearing and the chaos is collectible.
Is it escapism? Sure. Is it genius? Absolutely.
More Than A Toy: The Inner Girl Theory
Here’s my theory: Labubu is therapy in disguise.
You know that childhood version of you who felt too loud, too weird, too emotional, too much? The one who didn’t fit into neat little boxes or match the “good girl” aesthetic? Labubu is her. Or maybe, he’s the friend she always needed.
In a world that demands emotional control, perfect routines, and corporate slay, Labubu lets us tap into a softer rebellion. A sillier identity. One that embraces our flaws and says, “I’m a little off, and that’s what makes me magic.”
There’s a reason more girls than guys are collecting Labubu. We’ve spent years being told to clean up our act emotionally, physically, socially. And suddenly, there’s this little troll with unbrushed hair, a crooked grin, and chaotic outfits who’s thriving. He’s not fixing himself. He’s being adored as is. That’s aspirational, baby.
So… Should You Get One?
Honestly? Maybe.
Not because everyone else is doing it, but because it’s a reminder. That you’re allowed to love things that are imperfect. That you can be precious and peculiar at the same time. That collecting joy in all its weird forms is still a form of resistance.
Labubu may be small, but the message is big: You don’t have to be cute to be loved. You don’t have to be polished to be worthy. You don’t have to be normal to be seen.
Sometimes, you just need to be a little monster with big feelings and that’s more than enough.
Labubu isn’t just a trend. It’s a mirror. A tiny vinyl revolution that tells the truth we’re all a little weird, a little worn, and a little wonderful.
And maybe, just maybe, that’s what makes us collectible, too.
