Meet the Billion-Dollar Ugly-Cute Icon

Labubu’s rise to fashion-world darling and consumer culture craze reflects how Asia’s visual language is reshaping global self-expression.

There isn’t an internet rabbit hole I haven’t fallen down – or a viral trend I haven’t at least glanced at from a distance. But one particularly mischievous character evaded me until a day at the office when I first felt the pull of its hypnotic gaze.

Nestled on my colleague’s desk, outstretched on a tiny plastic yoga mat, was a Labubu figurine. At first glance, its big ears, wild fur, and jagged grin struck a balance between menace and charm – more impish than innocent.

Before I could even form a thought about it, a full-scale Labubu invasion was underway – sweeping through my office, flooding my Instagram ads, and dangling from the backpack of a stranger on the MRT. Even on vacation in Vietnam, I turned a corner and, without warning, locked eyes with the creature through a storefront window.

For a moment, I started questioning whether I was imagining things. But it wasn’t all in my head. Pop Mart, the maker of Labubu, established a flagship store in the heart of Taipei’s Ximending shopping area as early as 2023. The shop spans four floors and features exclusive blind boxes, livestreaming spaces, and an art exhibition area. The brand’s myriad of character collections, including the also popular Crybaby and Skullpanda, were all around – evidently lost to me in the sea of 怪萌 (guài méng, weird-cute or ugly-cute) cartoons native to Asia.

The how and why of Pop Mart and Labubu’s meteoric rise the following year lies in a masterful expansion of collectible design.

Created by Hong Kong-born artist Kasing Lung, the figurines were popularized through Beijing-based Pop Mart’s blind boxes – sealed packages that conceal which character is inside. Each box taps into the dopamine rush of a lottery ticket or capsule machine, transforming a simple purchase into a moment of suspense and delight. If the reveal isn’t the figurine you were hoping for, the disappointment doesn’t deter – it only deepens the urge to try again.

So was the experience of my colleague, the harbinger of our office’s Pop Mart craze.

“When I first bought a Labubu, I actually didn’t choose the blind box,” says Christine Huang, AmCham Taiwan’s communications manager. “I chose a specific one I wanted. Later, when I opened a blind box, I got the one I really wanted from that collection.” Beginner’s luck encouraged her to dive deeper, she says.

This formula proved magnetic across the Taiwanese ugly-cute landscape. According to Pop Mart’s 2024 Annual Report, revenue from offline channels in the Hong Kong, Macao, Taiwan, and overseas markets category increased from about NT$2.8 billion (US$96 million) in 2023 to NT$13.5 billion (US$460 million) in 2024. Offline channels included sales from retail stores (up 404% in the same period) and roboshops (up 132%).

The direct-to-customer strategy for these markets saw the number of physical stores reach 130 (Taiwan has more than 10), including those operated by joint ventures. The number of roboshops reached 192, of which dozens are scattered across Taiwan, through joint ventures and roboshop partners. Roboshops are those automated vending-style machines that dispense blind boxes, enabling quick, staff-free purchases.

One such partnership familiar to Taiwan’s air travelers is through Everrich’s duty-free shop located in Taoyuan International Airport. This year, Taiwan’s leading duty-free retailer completed a toy concept zone featuring Pop Mart products in the airport’s Terminal 2. The upgrade is meant to cater to young travelers and families, offering stylish, collectible toys.

“We have long been dedicated to promoting Taiwan’s culture and local spirit through a modern and innovative lens,” Everrich said in an email to Taiwan Business TOPICS. “Pop Mart and its characters represent a new wave of pop culture that resonates strongly with younger generations. These figures are not only collectibles but also a way for people to express identity, emotion, and creativity.”

The prankster’s presence

Pop Mart’s 2010 launch in Beijing as a modest boutique selling lifestyle goods like toys, comics, and phone accessories didn’t yet hint at its future as a cultural ambassador.

That changed in 2014, when founder and then-college student Wang Ning recognized the market potential of intellectual property-driven collectibles sold through blind boxes. He also saw an opportunity to create a new kind of character, one with a designer edge and mass appeal.

Labubu quickly became Pop Mart’s signature mascot in part by inducing nostalgia to foster emotional need. “The Monsters” collection – including Labubu, created by Kasing Lung in 2015 – merges Nordic folklore aesthetics with punkish charm into a creature that’s slightly unsettling but also gentle and oddly familiar.

“When I was young, I used to watch The Smurfs on television – and you know there are hundreds of them!” Lung told Perfect magazine in an interview. Lung, who grew up in the Netherlands, often credits his fascination with the region’s folklore – especially elf and monster myths – as the inspiration behind Labubu’s design. “That’s why I wanted to create a big universe with a lot of monsters.”

He also drew inspiration from the Kaikai Kiki Gallery in Japan, which features the work of artists like Takashi Murakami, who blend playful, childlike visuals with deeper emotional or philosophical themes.

Each series – be it seasonal, limited, or artist collaboration – adds new mythos. So far, there’s been a woodland edition, a camping version, a gold-dusted Lunar New Year model, and many more, with each launch providing a small range of unique characters, enabling Labubu’s lore to cheekily expand. Fans line up in cities across the world, especially in Taipei, to unbox their desired or rare variant.

“My friends took me to Pop Mart the first time I went to the physical shop,” says Huang. “I thought, ‘What the hell is this?’ I didn’t understand why there were so many people lining up to get inside.”

The dolls are notoriously hard to find – whether due to limited stock, inflated resale prices, or the frenzy that sees them disappear within minutes of release. Still, when Huang tells me she went from skepticism to paying triple the original price to secure her favorite, I am floored.

The resale market for Labubu is thriving. The newest series, “The Monsters: Big into Energy,” sold out worldwide within a week of release and became the best-selling collectible item in StockX history, with resale markups exceeding 20%. The “Big into Energy” resale multiplex set averages US$274 (NT$8,000), with some top transactions reaching approximately US$1,140 (around NT$33,000).

Taiwanese TikToker “foodbabytw” in a video shared her experience visiting the Pop Mart in Taipei. The video, which features her and a group of friends interacting with the store’s displays, pans over to an employee removing packaged Labubu figurines from their shipping boxes.

“I ended up just getting a Skullpanda – I didn’t even get a Labubu,” she says. “We thought we were going to get lucky by the register. They actually did pull out the new Labubus but it was just for people that won the raffle.”

Stepping outside, the video turns toward rows of dolls and their accessories resting on large, bright displays. “Across the street from Pop Mart you can find resellers, but it’s like five times the price,” she says. “My friends got their Labubus from this Pop Mart, so hopefully we’ll be lucky next time.”

What’s emerged is a new, frenzied micro-economy dubbed “Labubunomics.” Blooming secondary industries have sprouted around Labubu, encompassing collecting, reselling, influencing, and even customization. These toys have encouraged many small businesses to tap into the surrounding market, offering everything from phone cases and bag charms to cross-industry collaborations and curated shops specializing in lifestyle items.

In Taiwan, secret links available during limited-time online drops or in-person scratch-off cards at physical store events as part of festival promos or anniversary events increase the thrill. On TikTok, influencers document their reactions to unboxings, blind box trades, and Labubu outfit styling videos, while fans form tight-knit communities around trading figures on collector apps and analyzing drop patterns online.

“I was trying to get some stuff and had to wait in the queue for so long,” says AmCham’s Huang. Rather than hypothesize who was in line and their motivation for being there, she opted to ask. Their response: “I was just helping people.”

Other toy shops in Taiwan, similar to the one shown in the TikTok video, pay people to secure a spot in line during a new collection drop in order to buy the figures the resellers want. Each customer is limited to purchasing one doll at a time; however, these people are paid to get in line repeatedly until the figures sell out. “Then the toy shops will sell these twice or triple the price,” says Huang.

Shoppers browsing through Pop Mart are greeted by the full array of the brand’s whimsical creations, from Labubu and Skullpanda to Dimoo and Crybaby.

The luxe icon

A strategy built on scarcity, visual storytelling, and the thrill of surprise has sent the brand skyrocketing.

In June 2025, Labubu shattered expectations. A 131-cm-tall (4.3 feet) mint green figure was auctioned at Beijing’s Yongle International Auction for RMB 1.08 million (roughly US$150,000). The event featured 48 Labubu-themed lots, drawing over 200 bidders in person and over 1,000 online. Total sales reached RMB 3.73 million. One highlight included a “Three Wise Labubu” set, which sold for RMB 510,000.

Critics saw the scale of the auction as a turning point. Labubu was no longer just a collectible – it had been validated by the art market. The results placed Pop Mart in the same conversation as contemporary art heavyweights like Kaws, whose dystopian, Mickey Mouse-inspired figures have become global sellouts.

More telling was the demographic of buyers: a mix of seasoned art collectors, luxury fashion clients, and crossover superfans. A designer toy commanding this kind of cross-market interest is rare, and it cemented Labubu’s status as an international, cross-generational icon.

Leading up to this turning point, celebrities and influencers like Blackpink’s Lisa Manoban had helped spark an early wave of fandom on social media. Manoban’s 2024 Instagram post in which she’s sporting her Labubu sent sales soaring. Soon after, celebrities across Asia and the West joined in.

Early this summer, K-pop group Seventeen unveiled 14 custom Labubu figures as part of a campaign involving Pharrell Williams, Carhartt, and Japanese fashion house Sacai. On June 20, final bids for these 14 figures ranged from US$18,750 to US$31,250.

Labubu now lives at the intersection of art, fandom, and fashion, with Pop Mart positioning the figure as a lifestyle object – placed alongside designer handbags in high-end department stores in Tokyo and Shanghai. It’s less plushie and more cultural currency.

“It’s very unexpected,” said creator Lung during his interview with Perfect. “I never dreamed people would put charms on their designer bags.”

However, some social media analysts say that Labubu’s pairing with luxury handbags reflects a broader narrative of “high-low mixing,” where luxury is subverted and made less formal by injecting humor and personality using cute, soft toys. Trends show consumers’ desire to curate styles that aren’t defined by price alone and that embrace imperfection and authenticity.

“In my 30s, living by myself, I tried to avoid having cute stuff at home because I wanted to be that independent, mature woman with a sophisticated style,” says Huang. “When I turned 40, I realized my personality is actually more childlike. So I decided to keep things that felt like a reflection of me.”

In Taiwan, like elsewhere, age largely determines how people are expected to act. The older you are, the more serious your demeanor or elevated your appearance should be, particularly in professional environments. But Huang says that products like Pop Mart’s are helping to nurture the young-at-heart and encourage people to be unburdened by expectations.

“In a way, collecting those things kind of makes me feel like it doesn’t matter how old or where I am,” she says. “They represent me, and I get joy from that.”

It is safe to say that Pop Mart has engineered a global lexicon where mystery, design, and feeling converge in one jagged smile, unconcerned with perfection.