Why is everyone obsessed with Labubus?

Move over Fugglers, there's another mischievous little guy taking over the local pub, one bag charm at a time.

By now, you've probably seen Labubus tacked on to just about every handbag we can imagine, from LISA's $2,800 Khaite Elena to charity-shopped clutches. Their pointy ears and wicked smiles are the work of Hong Kong-born Artist Kasing Lung, designed as part of his 'The Monsters' series, and inspired by Nordic mythologies of faeries and elves. They bring a splash of 'Y2K' ugly-cute nostalgia to every outfit, continuing the 2020s quest for 'personal style' and the cutest junky maximalist accessories.

But why have these fairytale-inspired toys gained such a rampant adult audience? Nostalgic collectables like Smiskis, Sonny Angels and Jellycats have exploded in popularity amongst young adults as reminders of simpler times. Of collecting Sylvanian Families and Moshi Monster cards, before you were aware of the crumbling economy, or the housing ladder that you'll probably never climb. In reality, our generation might never hit a lot of the adult milestones that our parents and grandparents did, so why not embrace our static teenagedom? At least being surrounded by silly little guys might make living with your parents a bit more bearable.

Where quirky bag charms and the 'lived in' look used to mean well-travelled, fast social media trend cycles have commercialised the idea of this 'personal style', encouraging you to mark your individuality with accessories everybody has. Now, people are turning to Amazon's set-of-five trinkets over a niche keyring from Italy, purely because of the price point. With originality costing precious time and savings, who can afford to resist cheap, fun TikTok trends?

But like all great kings, Labubus must beware the fall. As quickly as the social media algorithm popularises collectables like Fugglers or Sonny Angels, it drops them for a new fad. As goes the overconsumption cycle, we can expect to see some poor Labubus in the landfill by the end of 2025.

So why is everyone so obsessed with Labubus, if the craze probably won't last? In short, what draws me to them is their devious little grins, playful in the face of deadlines and job applications. They look like they want to chew through a Zara's sparkly floors and reject the corporate minimalism of adult life. Maybe not the most original bag charm, Labubus represent a yearning for fun and chaos from new generations that can only spell hope in our sanitised, social media age.