Labubus and the Curation of Personality.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been seeing these things everywhere—not just on my social media feed, but also in person. Labubu is the new craze, released in hype-inducing blind boxes by Pop Mart. Essentially, they’re a little portable demon, a gremlin-looking doll/keychains.

So What’s the Big Deal?

The deal is that they’re everywhere. It’s reminding me of the Stanley Cup phenomenon—though that was more of an American thing but in my small town in the Midlands, and then when I visited London last week, I couldn’t ignore how Labubus have become more than just an internet thing. I’m talking about seeing them on bags, accessories, and even more mainstream spaces. Every fashion magazine has posted about the craze, and you can even rent them on ByRotation.  Labubus have taken over the streets.

And it got me thinking: what happened to personal identity?

Dressing for Ourselves VS The Trend Cycle

Listen, you’re allowed to like Labubus, even own one if you want to, I think it’s kind of cute, and understand the rhetoric about having a little friend to carry round with you during these turbulent times, but the way it came about was anything other than organic and it feels like something people are purchasing simply for the sake of it – because it’s popular and trendy (and there are a ton of celebrity and influencer endorsements behind it). Trends are nothing new, but it’s interesting how people’s personal style seems to be slowly devolving into whatever the next “aesthetic” or “core” is.

This particular accessory feels different because it’s reiterating the point that: no one seems to be dressing for themselves anymore. And it’s like no one is accessorising for themselves, either. I keep thinking of this TikTok trend from a while ago where people would “Jane Birkin” their bags by buying a brand-new bag and then roughing it up to give it that “worn-out” look. Of course, that distressed, lived-in vibe can be achieved... over time. But the real issue was how everyone seemed to be decorating their bags in the exact same way. Hell, some people even went as far as to get a Birkin bag dupe to replicate Jane Birkin’s vibe, or that of an influencer they saw online.

Customising and accessorising have always been a way of showcasing your personality, that’s a major part of why fashion matters to so many people, because there is so much freedom in being able to visibly express your individuality.  Personally, I have keychains and little charms on my bags, but they’re all things that actually matter to me – things that reflect who I am. Yes, many of them are from mainstream stores and part of whatever band or show I’m a fan of but my accessories are an extension of my personality, not just another trend to jump on because it’s “in”. This is why Labubu’s feel like such a symbol of this shift, a keyring’s sole purpose is to express individual interests and style, they are a styling accessory and serve no other purpose. But then along came Labubus.

In the midst of this mass consumption and trend-chasing, the cultural conversations keep circling around, I can’t help but wonder if we’ve forgotten how to truly express ourselves through the things we wear and carry. When every bag looks the same, every accessory is a Labubu, and every outfit is a carbon copy of the latest style influencer, where’s the room to discover ourselves?  We’ve all heard the rallying cry that the internet killed subcultures, now – has Labubu killed individuality?

The Battle to Fit In

The rise of Labubu’s has made one more thing startingly clear – the strong desire to feel part of something, whilst also seeking personal gain over each other, becomes a frenzy.

As I’m writing this, the Pop Mart stores across the UK have halted sales of Labubus due to violent fan altercations and scalpers who have been reselling the same dolls that cost somewhere from £25 to £50 firsthand, for thousands of pounds on eBay. The exact same rushes, and violence were part of the Stanley Cup trend cycle. Leading me to ask, how does this desire to be part of something lead to us scrapping with the very people that might have had IRL, human, connections with?

Labubus will be forgotten in a few months or years like many things that came before it; think beanie babies in the 90s, pop vinyls in the 2010s (I had a few – ew.) And we’ll be left looking for the next item that we can consume, in our attempts to be who we think we should be.

I’m not saying let’s reject trends as a whole, that’s not really possible. I follow certain trends from time to time – there’s something undeniably enticing about them sometimes – but it’s important to ask: are we really curating our own personalities and expressing ourselves, or are we just taking pains to represent an image that’s been handed to us, pre-determined?

Curating Identities

Our sense of identity has become a curated product.

The online persona is an act, every time you post it’s to showcase a certain side of yourself, getting to a  point where it’s become a curated product.

What I mean by this is that people have started to design their personalities not just online but in reality, as if they’re an Instagram feed. It’s like they’re picking and choosing parts of their identity from what’s currently trending, whether it’s a keychain, a pair of shoes, or a whole aesthetic. You don’t even have to think deeply about it. Just look at what the influencers are doing, and bam – your personality of the month is ready to go.

In a paper by The Observer, Sarah Karkoff, talks about an interesting paradox of how people online look for originality and nonconformity but end up buying into the popular trends, constructing their personalities through the lens of consumerism and marketing. All to come off as relatable, with identities presented in neat, curated list of brands and aesthetics rather than genuine individuality, actually relating to each other, or developing nuanced self-expression.

Unfortunately, when a person doesn’t actively curate a unique persona or participate in the latest trends, they aren’t seen as a more ‘real’ person but instead someone boring and irrelevant or even invisible  – an “NPC” (non-playable character). It’s to no surprise that many people get heavily involved in new aesthetics and trends, the fear of missing out is real and being a part of something (whether true to yourself or not)  is a way of gaining social relevancy, especially online but now it seems, IRL too.

Do we own Labubu’s or Do They Own Us?

With Labubus dangling from every bag strap and trend cycles moving faster than ever, we’re faced with a cultural moment that says less about the accessories themselves and more about us. It’s not really about the Labubu but what it represents -  how easily our identities are influenced, packaged and sold back to us in a neat little (blind) box. 

It’s time to pause, take a step back and ask: who are we dressing for? And at what point do the things that we own, start owning us? It’s pretty crucial to think about, because if we don’t start choosing our own identities, someone else will always be happy to do it for us.

By Reenad Afzal