In a society of high-pressure living, Labubu blind boxes are offering a moment of lighthearted joy.
Recently, under news articles asking, ‘Why is Labubu so popular?’ I’ve often seen netizens asking, “How has a toy (blind box) brand managed to take the world by storm,” and “Labubus aren’t even cute, so why do so many people like it?”
Standing outside the Pop Mart flagship store on London’s Oxford Street, watching crowds anxious to buy the newly released Labubu × Little Polly blind boxes, I have found myself asking the very same questions.
With blind boxes, consumers pay a fixed price for a sealed box containing a random item (usually one from a series). You don’t know what’s inside until you open it. The odds of getting the specific figurine you want might be 1/6 or 1/14. This means you’ll keep buying until you finally get the one you want most.
A group of sensible adults spending hundreds or even thousands of pounds every month, just to pull a doll out of a blind box without knowing what it will actually look like — this kind of ‘play’ is more like a ‘gamble’, designed to satisfy adults’ desire for a challenge and their urge to collect.
A Labubu is a little creature with pointed ears, nine teeth and a slightly mischievous grin. Inspired by Norse mythology and infused with elements of Eastern folklore, it is conceived as a kind-hearted sprite who “always wants to help but always ends up making things worse”.
This imperfect quality has, in fact, become an outlet for modern adults to express their true selves. A Labubu’s grinning, fanged, mischievous expression strips away the traditional ‘cute’ and ‘well-behaved’ labels associated with toys, aligning more closely with Gen Z’s rebellious spirit.
For today’s adults, playing with toys is no longer seen as ‘childish’ or a ‘waste of money’, but rather a form of resistance against a rigid and high-pressure lifestyle: for instance, building with Lego to alleviate anxiety, or squeezing stress-relief toys to release tension.

Labubus tap into young people’s need for identity. It’s not merely a toy: it’s a vessel for emotional expression.
You and your classmate might be nothing more than ‘familiar strangers’, with your social interaction limited to group project discussions, but one day, when you spot a Labubu hanging from their schoolbag, you’ll instinctively categorise them as one of your own. A single blind box can spark a conversation and instantly bridge the gap between you.
As a social symbol, a Labubu enables strangers to build trust more quickly in a short space of time. On social media platforms, hashtags such as #LabubuOutfits and #LabubuRemakes have sparked a rise in user-generated content.
By showcasing their collections, users establish their credentials as ‘trendy toy enthusiasts’, turning the Labubu into a form of social currency.
There is now a vast community of Labubu enthusiasts. They post unboxing vlogs, analyse photo setups, share styling inspiration and personalised doodles, forming communities on Instagram and TikTok.
It’s like a cultural tribe: you may not know who the other person is, but you know they love Labubus too. The size of one’s collection and the rarity of the items serve as a status symbol, whilst the number of likes and comments acts as applause and cheers — they gain a sense of group identity within the virtual world.
Adults who don’t want to ‘grow up’ have become obsessed with ‘kidulting’ — this aligns with adults’ need for psychological healing and emotional resonance. People use the soft texture of Jellycats to rekindle childhood memories, turning them into ‘emotional comforters’ in their adult lives.
A Labubu’s ambivalent nature (part good, part mischief) resonates deeply with adults, particularly Gen Z: the overworked office pencil pushers putting on a brave face, or those feigning cheerfulness in social settings.
They project their emotions and thoughts onto a Labubu. Whether it’s by redesigning the figurine’s outfits or, on a bad day, choosing a Labubu representing ‘grumpiness’ or ‘anger’ to hang from their bag, Labubus have become a medium for expressing their self-awareness, a conduit for their emotions.
At that Pop Mart shop on Oxford Street, I couldn’t resist buying a £29 Labubu. Upon opening it, I found it wasn’t ugly, but it certainly wasn’t cute either.
Yet, that moment of surprise and anticipation when opening a blind box reminded me of myself at the age of seven, when I would already be grinning from ear to ear before unwrapping my birthday present.
Perhaps there’s no deeper reason for an adult to play with Labubus — it’s simply that moment of light-hearted joy, and for that, £29 is well worth it.
Featured image by JCM via Adobe Stock.
