It was the year of bag charms, but 2024 was really when Labubu invaded bags. They are indeed beloved, but their protracted omnipresence means one thing: They are trending to death

When Labubus need to be seen and protected: PVC bag for more than one doll

It’s really been Labubu this, Labubu that. If you are out and about, you will very likely meet the furry creature of debatable cuteness, dangling on a bag, or contained in its own see-through housing. And Pop Mart, the maker and retailer of the conspicuous key-ring plushie that is an elf, has become very profitable after convincing so many that the androgynous (it’s a she, in case you are in doubt) saw-toothed creature with a flat vinyl face is very adorable and, more importantly, covetable, so much so that there are those who would break into a claw machine to steal them, if queueing for one outside a Pop Mart store to make a purchase is too energy-zapping and, probably, totally futile. Regrettably, Labubu has reached a point where it brings out the worse in people.

Or in fashion. That it is ‘worn’ qualifies it as a fashion accessory of note? That does not amuse collectors of designer toys (or, for the more discerning, “art toy characters”), but even non-Toy Mart playthings, such as South Korean artist Jo Young Woon’s Farmer Bob, produced by F.UN (abbreviation of Finding Unicorn, that, like Pop Mart, is also a Chinese manufacturer) now comes in key-ring plushie forms. And they are not by any means small. They are very noticeable. What’s puzzling is that their appearance on luxury bags is for the purpose or personalising them bags, which is rather odd, because so many consumers desire expensive bags because they stand on their own—who needs more than the logos or the logo-ed clasps? Apparently, a Labubu can now “elevate bags to another level” now that the sac de luxe—and their corresponding dupes—are seen everywhere.

Pop Mart X Coca Cola Zimomo plushie against a Goyard tote

There is the ‘fun’ defence. But what is so fun about a stuffed toy that needs to be protected with an oftentimes unattractive zip-top transparent holder is not so clear. (There are even totally see-through backpacks to showcase your entire collection of Labubus—or Zimomos—in case you need to show off more than one or transport an entire coterie of them around.) The argument is that because Labubu is difficult to score and has a high resale value, they have to be covered in plastic. But so is the Birkin, but no woman (or man) carries one with a ridiculous transparent shielding tent over it. Perhaps therein lies the delicious irony: Labubu can allegedly augment a bag’s high-end status, yet they have to be stored in questionable plastic housing, providing contrast between the perceived value and desirability of the doll itself and the dubious aesthetic of its protective container. Incongruity is rarely better illustrated.

Besides, no one is ever seen playing with it or even treating it like a toy. They hang like unnoticed Christmas ornaments. Where is the fun? We were told that the enjoyment is in treating Labubu like you would a child. You can, as it turns out, take your adoptee to have a ‘spa’ (read: a session at a cleaning service), for a make-up session (there are those for eyes or the entire face), to have her fur re-painted (you can choose more than one colour), and even have her saw ‘teeth’ fixed with braces (seriously)! Labubu’s high-fashion association (attributable to Lisa who has, so far, attached hers to a studded Khaite ‘Elena’ bag, an Hermès ‘Constance’ and a Louis Vuitton ‘Speedy 25 Bandoulière Damier’) means that the creature needs a fashionable wardrobe to impress. And there are countless online boutiques and sellers to indulge her—or your—every whim.

One of the earliest Labubu-on-bag was seen when Lisa attached hers to a Khaite ‘Elena’. Photo: lalisa_m/Instagram

Apart from those Labubus in a PVC habitat, there are those not dangled from bags as is. You are also able to clothe your Labubu, to let them be kitted to the nines, an idea that can be traced to Barbie since the first doll in a swimsuit was introduced in 1959. Pop Mart reportedly offers a separate Labubu wardrobe that can be purchased, but we have never seen them. They mostly exist through third-party sellers or home-based crafters (crochet garb, for example). Clothes for Labubu have become a minor industry in itself. On Shopee alone, there are “1000+ affordable Labubu clothes for sale”. But the idea is not to have her togged in any old rag. She has to turn out in head-to-to ‘Chanel’, even when the French house does not make doll clothes or miniature bags.

While many have moved to Pop Mart’s next big thing, Cry Baby (that itself marks the beginning of the end of the trend), even more are still hanging on to their Labubus or searching desperately for their first. One woman in the health care profession with a daughter of marriageable age told us that she went to the Pop Mart at Wisma Atria several times, queued, but always walked away empty-handed. Then she headed to the Plaza Singapura outlet and was similarly unrewarded for her enthusiasm. She eventually bought her plushie from a reseller in the same mall. After her considerable effort, she decided that the precious Labubu has to have to her own mobile lodging to keep it pristine. “That’s another twenty dollars,” she said. We could not tell if it was social influence at play or genuine love of a toothy, wide-faced elf.

Note: We are unable to vouch for the authenticity of the Labubus seen here. They are featured for illustrative and entertainment purpose only.

Photos: Zhao Xiangji