Some creatures only come out at night: vampires, werewolves, and now the latest member of the after-hours club: hopeful Labubu collectors.

If you’re not already in the know, that last group might feel as mysterious as mythical creatures. It only adds to the toys’ mystique that the window when you can officially purchase the mega-popular trinkets — sold in limited drops, like fashion collabs and sneakers — only opens for a brief time on seemingly random nights (usually at 10 pm Eastern). Enthusiasts say that successfully getting your hands on one of the approximately half-foot tall plastic-and-vinyl bunny-eared ghouls with a rictus grin feels like doing the impossible, or at least something more impossible than spending $27.99.

With their faces illuminated by the glow of their smartphones, credit card numbers locked in, fingers at the ready to click and add to cart, for Labubu hunters, there is no duty, no bedtime, sometimes no supper — only Labubu.

According to lore, Labubus are a tribe of mythical female elves called The Monsters that live in Nordic forests. According to Pop Mart, the toy and design company that produces the dolls, Labubus are a character-driven franchise, largely consisting of plushies, figurines, and accessories, that brings in over $400 million in revenue. And according to their most fervent fans — the people who have made Labubu a success in the hundreds of millions of dollars — Labubus are pure joy…if you somehow manage to get your hands on one.

If only the other things we spend roughly $30 on could bring us such glee.

Yet, many others do not find any delight in that idea. Some assert that the Labubus craze represents capitalism in its latest stage, thanks to a perfect storm of technical uselessness, jacked-up reseller prices, celebrity endorsement, and forced scarcity. Others think the little goblins are aesthetically ominous, even ugly.

But that division — and the strong feelings on both sides — might just be exactly how Labubus became such big business. Understanding why some people can’t get enough of the toys (and the chase), gives us a window into bigger questions about what makes us happy, what makes us feel in-the-know, and what someone’s really buying when they purchase a monster of their own.

Hate only makes Labubus stronger

When people talk about Labubus, they’re likely referring to the mega-popular “pendant” versions that come with a sewn-on ring that’s designed to clip onto bags and belt loops. These sell out in minutes. But if you do get your hands on a Labubu — from one of Pop Mart’s limited drops or on the secondhand market at a serious markup — you’ll find their bodies are soft, and small enough to fit in a fist. They come in a variety of colors, and often sell as sets.

Other pieces in the Labubu line include bigger dolls (retailing for $299), accessories like phone charms, and all types of figurines and plushes. No matter the size or brand collaboration, all Labubu products have one thing in common: They exist to be seen and displayed. Labubus don’t actually do anything, which may add to some of the general perplexity surrounding them.

“I’ve always been drawn to creatures that live in the space between fantasy and reality — characters that feel both familiar and mysterious,” Kasing Lung, the original artist who created Labubu, tells Vox. Growing up in the Netherlands and around Nordic and European folklore, Lung wanted to reflect those inspirations — mischievous, endearing, strange — in Labubu.........

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