Produced by: Manoj Kumar
Viral whispers claim Labubu dolls are “possessed”—with TikTok flooded by eerie stories, flickering lights, and unexplained chaos. Is it folklore-fueled panic—or marketing magic gone too far?
BLACKPINK’s Lisa didn’t just post a selfie—she detonated a global craze. When she cradled a Labubu on Instagram, resale prices skyrocketed overnight. Now everyone wants a piece of the “ugly-cute” elite.
A single four-foot Labubu just sold for ₹1.5 crore. Yes, a toothy grin and spiky ears now fetch more than a luxury SUV. Collectors say it’s art. Critics say it’s madness. Investors? They’re just cashing in.
The thrill of mystery turns ugly fast. From Beijing to Bengaluru, blind box drops are sparking fights, scalpers, and police calls. With FOMO at fever pitch, even stores can’t control the chaos.
Religious influencers call Labubu “spiritually dangerous,” likening its origin to demonic Nordic sprites. Meanwhile, Gen Z shrugs and calls it aesthetic. Is it rebellion—or belief repackaged as irony?
Unboxings. Pranks. Psychic readings. Labubu’s all over TikTok—its cult growing through viral chaos. For every disappointed pull, there’s a million views. For every rare find? A new legend is born.
With adult toy sales soaring past $1.8 billion, Labubu’s not just a doll—it’s luxury. Celebs flaunt them like Birkins. Their price tags? Just as exclusive. And just as addictive.
Labubu’s not pretty—and that’s the point. Its weird, gremlin vibe speaks to a generation done with perfection. In a world of filters, Labubu says: here’s your chaos, wear it proudly.
Owning a Labubu isn’t just collecting—it’s belonging. Online clans debate rarity, trade figurines like currency, and signal taste, status, even politics. This isn’t a fandom—it’s a movement.