Why everyone is obsessed with Labubu and where to find these collectibles in Minnesota

Osirys Oliva and Jonathan Martinez got to Rosedale Center at 5:30 a.m. on Thursday to secure the first spots in one of two lines queued up in the rain. Four hours later, when the doors opened, they rushed toward two vending machines inside the Roseville shopping mall, with dozens of other line-waiters right behind.

Welcome to ground zero for Minnesota’s Labubu collectible-accessory craze.

Never heard of Labubu? The stuffed toys combine Hello Kitty’s cartoon cuteness, with Gremlin-like menace and the collectability of Beanie Babies. In the speculative spirit of Pokémon cards and claw machines, they’re sold in “blind boxes‚” so purchasers don’t know which one they’ll get.

Not that Labubu are easy to acquire.

Oliva, 22, had seen the stuffed creatures on TikTok this winter, and at first thought they were “creepy little things that people were obsessed with.” Eventually, the internet wore her down. “I just kept seeing them over and over, and I hopped on the trend.”

Labubu’s big-eyed, scary-sweet aesthetic — think: evil Care Bears, or if Yoshitomo Nara illustrated “Where the Wild Things Are?” — seems a bit edgy for mainstream virality.

And yet, Labubu fandom ranges from Hollywood A-listers to middle-school dean’s listers, who hang the little monsters from belt loops and bags.

Why are folks paying $30 or more for tchotchkes in the face of economic uncertainty? Some speculate that the Labubu craze reflects the “lipstick effect” theory — that consumers who can’t afford big-ticket items during a financial crisis still splurge by treating themselves to more small luxuries — and signals that a recession is ahead.

Back in 2015, the Hong Kong-born, Netherlands-raised artist Kasing Lung created a picture book trilogy called “The Monsters,” influenced by Norse myths. Among the magical monsters in the series, the main character was the mischievous Labubu.

As is the natural evolution in our merch-obsessed culture, Monsters figurines ensued. Confusingly, the toys are generally referred to as Labubu, even though there are multiple characters named things like Tycoco, Zimomo and Mokoko.

The figures became popular when they were picked up by the Chinese toy seller Pop Mart, which operates retail shops and vending machines worldwide. (Its billionaire founder was recently named the 10th richest man in China.)

But Labubu went viral last year, when K-pop star Lisa from Blackpink started clipping Labubu keychains to her bags. Since then, all sorts of celebs — Rihanna, Lizzo, Cher, David Beckham — have been flexing their furry fashion accessories.

The charms’ popularity has spawned the inevitable Labubu-related crimes, a thriving resale market, and someone spending more than $150,000 for a human-sized one at auction. Counterfeit Labubus are known as “Lafufus,” and collectors check for authenticity by scanning the toys’ QR code tags, shining a blacklight on their feet and examining their teeth.

The creatures can be tricky to hunt down.

Pop Mart’s website is sold out on the regular. And acquiring a Labubu at the Rosedale vending machines, which are Minnesota’s only Pop Mart outlets, is really a gambler’s gamble.

Pop Mart is tight-lipped about its approach to restocking and the number of Labubu varies day to day. Sometimes one machine has Labubu and the other does not. And the company doesn’t limit purchases, so the first person in line could empty the machine.

Adults have been known to show up at Rosedale with backpacks and wipe out all the inventory, which many Labubu fans find egregious. “I would like to do that, but I would not,” Martinez said, “because I would feel bad for everybody.”

Unfortunately, Martinez and Oliva didn’t get the chance. Neither machine had been restocked with Labubu. “Nothing?” a fan cried when she saw the empty trays. “So sad,” another added.

Beyond Rosedale, Labubu can be purchased at Asian stores at the Mall of America (including Ebisu and Ta-Da-Daa) or won at claw-machine arcades such as Duck! in Eagan. But one Reddit commenter warned others about going the gaming route: “I am ashamed of how much money I spent to get the cheapest Labubu there.”