If someone had told me two years ago that a quirky little fanged creature named Labubu would take over my shelf space, my wallet, and even a little part of my heart, I would have laughed. Yet here I am, typing this while surrounded by an entire army of Labubu figures peeking out from display boxes, mugs, keychains, and even a pair of socks I swore I'd never wear outside the house.
I still remember my first Labubu. It was from the "Forest Series," bought half on a whim, half because I couldn't resist the art on the box. I didn’t even know what I was getting into. I opened it on my kitchen counter, peeled back the foil, and there he was—a wide-eyed little monster with tiny claws and mischievous charm. I was hooked.
The First Phase: The Blind Box High
There’s a kind of adrenaline rush that only blind box collectors understand. You tear through packaging with equal parts hope and dread. The possibility of getting a rare or hidden edition sparks a childlike excitement, while the fear of a double haunts your every pull.
I started small. A couple boxes here and there. But soon, I was knee-deep in drop calendars, restock notifications, and resellers’ chat groups. I learned how to feel the weight of each box, how to spot slight manufacturing indentations that hinted at different figures. It was obsessive. It was thrilling.
Then came the trades. Ah yes, the barter system of the Labubu world. I made friends across cities and countries, sending off duplicates in bubble-wrapped envelopes and receiving hard-to-find editions in return. My Instagram stories became an endless parade of swaps, shoutouts, and very carefully arranged flat-lays.
The Second Phase: Deep Dive into Series and Lore
Collecting Labubu isn’t just about amassing figures. There’s a surprisingly rich world behind this fanged little monster, courtesy of artist Kasing Lung. Each series has a theme, a subtle storyline, and a mood all its own. From the eerie ambiance of the "Monster" series to the adorable chaos of "The Monsters In My Pocket," each new wave felt like a new chapter in a beloved graphic novel.
I started journaling my collection—yes, like an actual diary. Which series the figure was from, which store it was purchased at, how I felt when I opened it. There were some I hunted for months. A few I found unexpectedly in a local store tucked away on a side street. Each had a story.
My friends thought I was crazy. Until, of course, they saw my setup.
The Setup: Where Display Becomes an Art
My Labubu collection reached a tipping point where I could no longer keep them in shoeboxes. That’s when I invested in a transparent display storage box. Unlike regular containers, this one had everything a collector dreams of: clear visibility for every figure, dustproof design, and a stackable format that didn’t eat up shelf space. It came with smooth rounded edges, which was perfect since I tend to rearrange often, and adhesive stickers that kept things in place when I moved them between the desk and the cabinet.
It wasn't just about storage—it was a gallery. Every time I added a new Labubu, it got its own spot, its own little shrine. My friends would come over and end up spending half an hour just pointing and asking about each one. I didn’t even need to explain; the box itself presented them like artifacts in a miniature museum.
The Third Phase: Veteran Mode
By the time I reached what I call "veteran mode," I had not only completed multiple full series, but also built up a sixth sense for releases. I knew which Taobao store would drop first, when the official Instagram might tease a collab, and even which resellers to avoid.
I started mentoring newer collectors in online forums. Not in any official capacity, just sharing tips: how to trade safely, where to buy authentic pieces, how to avoid price gouging. Some of those newbies have now become good friends—and even better rivals at snagging limited drops.
One thing that surprised me was how emotionally attached I became to specific pieces. My "Monster Chef" Labubu? That was the one I opened on a really rough week and it lifted my spirits. The glow-in-the-dark Halloween edition? My partner lined up for that one when I couldn’t make it. These little figures hold moments, not just value.
Beyond the Figures: The Culture of Collecting
What began as a solo hobby turned into a way to connect with people. The Labubu community is a mix of artists, fans, resellers, photographers, and even DIY modders. Some repaint their figures. Others build entire dioramas. I’ve seen Labubu-themed cakes, tattoos, and hand-sewn plushies that put official merch to shame.
There’s also a quiet pride in how we display our collections. While some go full IKEA glass cabinet mode, others use minimalist platforms or multi-layered boxes like the transparent display storage box I mentioned. It’s about making the collection feel personal—not just stored, but celebrated.
The Never-Ending Story
Even now, with shelves that groan under the weight of my collection, I know I’m far from done. Every new series teaser reignites that same spark I felt on day one. I still get butterflies when unboxing a new figure, still groan when I pull a third duplicate, still grin like a kid when I finally complete a set.
Labubu, in all its fanged weirdness, has become more than a collectible. It’s a timeline of the past few years of my life—of moments, moods, and memories.
And I can’t wait to see what the next box holds.