Labubu Is the Anti-It Girl & That’s Why Everyone Loves Them

Collage by our graphic designer Francesca de Vita

Remember when the “It Girl” had a blowout, a Bottega bag, and a perfectly calculated sense of effortlessness? Clean girls had their moment. Old money had a revival. But now, fashion’s latest obsession is less about polish and more about playful chaos. Labubu is the Anti-It Girl and you either love her or hate her.

The emotionally ambiguous character from Pop Mart’s The Monsters series, is part woodland creature, part gremlin, and part oddly adorable mascot. At first, Labubu was just a collectible vinyl toy tucked into the shelves of hypebeast apartments or Xiaohongshu hauls.

But now, Labubu has become fashion’s new favorite accessory and a full-blown aesthetic. It's an attitude. It’s… a vibe.

Even Call Her Daddy host Alex Cooper brought it up in a recent interview with Sarah Jessica Parker, asking the million-dollar question: “Would you put a Labubu on your designer bag?” Parker, peering at a Prada tote decked out with two Labubu keychains, looked both amused and bewildered. While she admitted she wouldn’t personally accessorize that way (not out of snobbery, solely from personal style), it was clear the moment signaled something bigger. 

Fashion might just be entering its unhinged era with Labubu as the face of it.

Gone are the days when polish and perfection defined personal style. Gen Z and younger Millennials are rejecting the smooth edges of aspirational beauty and style in favor of something messier, weirder, more emotionally honest. Labubu doesn’t pretend to be flawless, in fact, it thrives in its weirdness. As it turns out, the newest flex now comes with fangs and a 1-in-24 chance of showing up in your mystery box.

This shift says a lot about where fashion and the culture at large is heading. We’re no longer dressing to look like the best version of ourselves. We’re dressing to feel something and Labubu fits right into this emotional shift. It represents rebellion, not just against mainstream aesthetics, but against the pressure to always appear composed. 

That emotional charge is part of what makes Labubu so appealing. With limited drops, mystery boxes, and the thrill of unboxing and collecting, Labubu taps into the same psychological patterns as beauty’s famous Lipstick Index—the idea that consumers will still treat themselves to small luxuries during tough times. Only now, instead of a classic red lipstick, we’re reaching for something that’s ugly-cute.

Buying a Labubu isn’t just a transaction. It’s a gamble, a dopamine hit, a serotonin-spiked game of chance. That element of sheer excitement and delight (or utter disappointment) has started to mirror how we currently engage with fashion too. Think: restock reminders, limited edition collections, and curated drops that sell out before you can blink. The scarcity makes it feel special. The unpredictability makes it fun.

In a world that’s increasingly optimized, filtered, and flattened by algorithms, Labubu offers something refreshingly weird. You can’t swipe to the next version of it. You can’t really explain why it speaks to you, it just does. Labubu isn’t trying to be cool, and that’s exactly what makes it cool.

At its core, the Labubufication of fashion isn’t really about the character itself. It’s about the energy it brings into the style space: equal parts nostalgia, chaos, and playfulness. In a cultural moment where perfection is exhausting and predictability is passé, Labubu offers a refreshing alternative: be weird, be limited-edition, be a little unhinged.