Parents will do anything for their kids — even tracking down a Labubu

Business Insider

2 days ago

She first noticed the plush monsters with toothy grins dangling from kids' belt loops.
Carly Anderson, 45, had discovered the Labubu craze. She was truly initiated into the obsessed fandom when she was gently laughed out of the Pop Mart store at her local mall for trying to buy one of the coveted toys in person.
While she stood morosely by a Pop Mart vending machine, a "nice gentleman" gave her tips and a list of third-party stores where she might find a monster, she said.
After 20 hours of legwork and around $180, she tracked down three of the little monsters at third-party sellers and local stores.
What drove the obsession? Love.
"Everybody jokes, 'Oh my gosh, who spends all this time looking for a Labubu?' But for me, this is much more about my daughter — seeing that she's excited about something, and I want to get excited about that thing with her," Anderson said. They've bonded and brainstormed over places they can try to acquire a Labubu, and have more time to devote to the hunt now that school is out for the summer.
Anderson has also experienced a strange side effect afflicting other parents: She's grown to find the monsters endearing.
"I have to say, at first I did not understand them at all and I thought they were so ugly, but somehow now I want one too," Anderson said. "I don't know what happened."
Anderson is part of a new class of Labubu seekers: The parents, grandparents, and guardians conscripted into the hunt and became endeared to the little monsters along the way.
Labubus first skyrocketed to popularity in Asia, where consumers clamored to get the snaggle-toothed monsters and adorn their bags with them. Their popularity has reached all corners of the globe, with Americans, Brits, and South Koreans all fiending to get their hands on the collectible. That's led to a feeding frenzy on the Pop Mart website, app, and reseller groups. To get a Labubu is no easy feat; it requires knowing when they'll drop on the app, on TikTok live, or — in very rare cases — if and when they'll make an appearance in a physical storefront. There's a whole online world of tricks for trying to get a Labubu.
Behind those computer screens, Discord chats, Reddit posts, and Facebook groups are parents and grandparents desperate to get their hands on one of the fuzzy creatures.
Some parents are now in the Labubu game for themselves: Lora Martin, 41, has been trying her best to get an authentic Labubu, but, in the meantime, acquired a knockoff, called a " Lafufu," that she's named Lil Debbie.
"They're strictly for me. These collectibles are for me. I'm not ashamed to say it," Martin said. "It may sound selfish and weird, but I'm 42. I've worked hard and I love these kinds of things. I've been a collector my whole life; this is nothing new."
She said that her kid, who also enjoys collecting things, isn't interested in Labubus; after all, as she noted, Labubus are explicitly marketed to adults. Her son, 5, is more interested in things like Bluey. Martin now has a Labubu from a reseller on the way.
'It's the crazy things we do for our kids'
On the other end is Mia Ponzo, who used to hate Labubus. Then she found herself waking up at 4:30 a.m. every day for a week to get one.
Ponzo is a grandmother based in Kuwait. She first became aware of the cultlike following that has sprung up around the fuzzy monster dolls through Hermes Facebook groups. She noticed that her fellow Hermes fanatics were posting about dangling the trendy creatures, which come adorned with a key ring, on their bags.
"I initially thought they were the most disgusting things on earth, and I was like, 'who the hell would put this stuff on their bag, why would you ruin a beautiful Hermes bag with a Labubu?'" Ponzo said of the Hermes-to-Labubu pipeline. But then, "I don't know, the whole thing started to grow on me."
Ponzo had been on the Labubu hunt for her granddaughter, who would only settle for a pink one. She woke up early to try to snag one when China-based Pop Mart drops a select few on its website; by chance, she ended up being able to order a full set of Labubus off of Pop Mart's Thailand website, but hasn't had success on the US-based site. In the meantime, she's gotten hooked on the thrill of the chase. She's now deep into everything Pop Mart and has three Labubus of her own, although she's drawn a line in the sand: "I would never put one on a bag. I don't think so. I don't even wear regular Hermes charms anymore."
Meanwhile, Kellie Crawford, a 49-year-old mother in Pennsylvania, recently found herself conscripted into what she's deemed the great Labubu hunt. Her daughter went down a rabbit hole after encountering the monsters on TikTok, even going so far as to create an Excel spreadsheet and index cards on how best to acquire one.
While her daughter was trying to game the system, Crawford found herself Labubu backchanneling: She posted on Facebook groups, tried to meet people locally, and did all that she could to secure a Labubu for her daughter's 16th birthday.
"It was crazy. I think several parts of my life are just gone because of the time spent sitting trying to tap on a box and watching a clock tick down," Crawford said, referring to the Pop Mart virtual game that is often one of the easier routes to get a Labubu in a cart. She added: "It's the things we do for our kids. It's the crazy things we do for our kids."
Finally, she found one on eBay for not too high of a markup, and bought it as a surprise. Before it arrived, her daughter finally purchased the exact same one through Pop Mart. Crawford had to come clean: The same one was already en route.
"I was excited for her, but I felt like I burst her bubble a little bit," Crawford said. Then, they suddenly realized what this means: Now Crawford and her daughter could have twin "Labuskis" — the nickname her daughter has coined for the toys.
"We have it dressed, and mine — I guess it's now my Labubu — is named Tilly Snack Pac Labuski," Crawford said. "She's the cutest thing, to be quite honest."
[e-mail].