How Cuteness Became a Commodity: The Dark Side of Collectibles and the TikTok Trend Cycle
Written by: Hannah Stoyanov, Communications Assistant @Threading Change
June 5th, 2025
[10-minute read]
If you’ve doom-scrolled on TikTok recently, you’re no stranger to the world of cute collectibles taking over the cars, bags, and bedrooms of consumers. With the growing popularity of stuffies and figurines in the market, there is an endless amount of fun and fluffy characters to gush over. Sonny Angels and Smiskis have largely dominated the figurine frenzy, while Jellycats have taken over the plushy market, and Labubus landing somewhere in between.
First introduced by artist and creator Kasing Lung in 2015, Labubus are described as good-hearted but mischievous, elfish creatures in the form of fuzzy figurines (Mashable, Bell, 2025). These endearing troublemakers have won the hearts of consumers and collectors alike, creating a newfound enthusiasm for customization (often added to things like handbags for an extra splash of personality) and creative expression. The craze is so widespread that “the #Labubu hashtag [on Tiktok] has racked up tens of millions of views, turning the impish character's cult following into a global obsession” (Mashable, Bell, 2025). In other words, the Labubu delulu is real. With all these characters flooding our homes, feeds, and psyches, we’re witnessing the beginnings of a cuteness epidemic.
What’s Driving the Obsession?
You may be wondering, how did all this mayhem begin? One minute you splurge on an irresistibly cute smiling avocado Jellycat that melts your heart, then all of a sudden your bedroom looks like the inside of a Toys "R" Us. If that image feels a little too familiar, you’re not alone. According to findings by global market research firm Circana, adults purchasing toys for themselves have contributed to a UK market estimated at £2 billion, with the firm noting that “one in five children’s toys are sold to adults buying them for themselves” (Body and Soul, Hennessy, 2025). The key culprits are “millennials, Gen Zers, and DINKs (dual-income, no-children)—who are spending a notable chunk of their paychecks on these irresistibly soft collectibles” (Rolling Stone, Ruiz, 2025).
A key driver behind this phenomenon is the sense of exclusivity that brands like Jellycat and Pop Mart have woven into their business models. Luxury brand strategy expert Daniel Langer notes that “luxury brands that are now excelling globally have moved away from a traditional 4P model (Product, Price, Place, Promotion) to a 4E model (Experience, Exclusivity, Engagement, and Emotion)” (TIME, Jeyaretnam, 2025). We can see this play out in limited edition marketing campaigns like “Jellycat’s recent collaboration with [luxury department store] Harrods, [where] some have paid hundreds of pounds for these plush, polyester-stuffed toys” (Shoutout UK, Gladwell, 2025). These tactics set these brands apart from other toy companies, creating a sense of high-end distinction through both their pricing and presentation. The cycle of new releases, limited-edition characters, and experience-focused marketing fosters a shared experience, allowing consumers to engage in a form of “play” that offers an escape from their busy lives. According to Jellycat’s PR team, this fun-forward approach not only attracts consumers but also lets “‘our characters and our fans do the talking for us’” (Shoutout UK, Gladwell, 2025), building hype on TikTok and other social platforms.
A Feel-Good Fluffy Fix
This new and improved marketing approach is undoubtedly effective, but has a sneaky way of exploiting the emotional side of consumers. While toys in general are meant to spark joy, we’re seeing a shift in consumer demographics as a response to the stress of our overstimulating lives. More and more people are buying these cuddly creatures to help fight the “Sunday scaries”, even going as far as bringing them into the workplace for emotional support (Body and Soul, Hennessy, 2025). Nothing like a smiling croissant propped up on your desk to avoid crashing out over an email. Participating in retail therapy “activates a part of our brain associated with pleasure and reward, which is why people who feel low are more likely to spend” (Shoutout UK, Gladwell, 2025). We see this sentiment expressed in a 2008 study, which claims that “sadness increases the amount of money that decision-makers give up to acquire a commodity” (Shoutout UK, Gladwell, 2025).
Although you can’t buy happiness, indulging in these commodities seems to lighten the load of everyday life, transporting fans to the nostalgic days of childhood and the wonders of imagination, but is this all under the guise of ‘comfort’? While it’s important to seek out what brings you joy, it’s also worth considering the cycle this form of ‘self-care’ can create, and whether it truly sustains your happiness over time. One minute, “Jellycats are [our] sole reason for living” (Body and Soul, Hennessy, 2025), but the rush of a new purchase always fades too soon, inevitably leaving us looking for more. In this way, emotional attachments and nostalgia can be hidden drivers of consumption, constantly urging us to seek validation through additional purchases.
The Trenches of the Trend Cycle
When the excitement of your last purchase starts to feel like an echo in the distance, don’t fret! There’s always another product launch around the corner. No matter the theme, “new releases sell out in seconds and spark bidding wars, with consumers often paying double or triple the retail price on third-party sites. Limited-edition variants, especially seasonal drops or collaborations, can fetch hundreds on resale platforms” (Mashable, Bell, 2025). There’s nothing quite as humbling as being “on Facebook Marketplace fighting with a 13-year-old over the price of a used pickle plushie” (Body and Soul, Hennessy, 2025).
You might be thinking, isn’t resale a good thing? And in many ways, it is: buying secondhand lets you enjoy something “new” while giving someone else’s item a second life. The problem, however, is that unlike most goods on the resale market, the collectability and rarity of these toys drive up prices significantly, fueled by their cultural appeal and limited availability.
Source: Ebay
No matter what figurine or stuffy fandom you belong to, the hype around new launches and limited-edition releases grants clout to those lucky enough to get their hands on them. The exclusivity of these items plays a major role in their appeal, intertwining with their high cultural capital. Thanks to their viral presence on social media, these items “[function] as a status marker, not just a source of comfort or nostalgia” (Mashable, Bell, 2025).
Cuddly creatures like Jellycats resemble many of our once-loved childhood toys, but what about Labubus? These quirky figurines hardly possess the same undeniable cuteness that more traditional toys have, yet they’ve managed to capture the hearts of consumers globally. Ugly/cute toys? Ugly/hot boys? They’re just cute enough to keep you interested, but just ugly enough to feel unique. It’s giving rodent boyfriend all over again. Perhaps the trends of our larger social circumstances also shape our consumption patterns.
When one type of toy has been around for a while, a growing market for something new naturally emerges. That’s why, when global superstar Lisa from BLACKPINK jumped on the Labubu bandwagon, their popularity skyrocketed (NBC News, Rodriguez, 2025). Suddenly, sporting a Labubu charm on a handbag feels effortlessly chic. “Having a rare or trendy Labubu signals cultural fluency” (Mashable, Bell, 2025), a message increasingly amplified through social media. If you’re not tuned into what’s trending, spotting a Labubu out in the wild can feel like a jarring experience. Through these in-the-know forms of cultural currency, some regard them “as little pieces of art or décor” (HuffPost, Glover, 2025). Status is displayed not only in person but also online, where constant validation fuels the desire for more. Much like other culturally recognized items such as designer handbags, these fuzzy friends have been counterfeited and dubbed “Lafufus” (Mashable, Bell, 2025), with subtle differences between the originals and the fakes. The rise of these knockoffs underscores their cultural significance and the growing influence of social media in shaping trends.
Blind Box Bonanza
Part of what’s causing these cuties to go viral is the power of the blind box bonanza. Blind boxes are “sealed packages that keep the exact design a surprise until you open them” (Mashable, Bell, 2025), typically showing you the potential designs on the back of the box. Gambling on which one you get is part of the fun. Unboxing videos have gone viral on Tiktok, bringing the audience along for the ride to experience the shining victory of getting the one you want or the instant frustration of getting your least favourite. While a lucky few experience the rush of getting the ones they wanted, many are also met with disappointment when they end up with one they already have. Welp, I guess it’s time to buy another! And the cycle continues.
Souce: @nyamkosabuni on TikTok
Much of this comes down to the marketing of the boxes, causing consumers to want more than just one toy. A study by the Atlantis Press claims that blind boxes satisfy consumers’ psychological needs for nostalgia, curiosity, and companionship (Atlantis Press, Chen, 2021). The surprise factor “leads buyers to repeatedly purchase blind boxes to fulfill these desires, thus increasing overall sales” (University of California, Ogasawara, 2024). This clever tactic ensures repeat customers through the desire to collect all models, causing consumers to fixate on which designs they missed out on rather than the one right in front of them.
While blind boxes have been described as “happiness in a box” (TIME, Jeyaretnam, 2025), the feelings that follow are often tinged with longing for the remaining models, leaving consumers slightly unsatisfied. Encouraging trading among loyal fans could be a way to ease this feeling while also strengthening community bonds. This type of engagement might also reduce consumption by providing a way to manage the inevitable duplicates. Although much of the thrill of blind boxes comes from the element of surprise, trading events or sharing these prized possessions with friends could offer a different kind of enjoyment. After all, “there is no denying the pleasure that blind boxes bring, but small sacrifices by consumers can help ensure joy doesn’t come at the expense of the environment” (University of California, Ogasawara, 2024).
Throwaway Culture
Like most trends, yesterday’s fads quickly lose their appeal, and the things we once couldn’t live without end up collecting dust in the corner of our rooms. The resulting waste from these purchases is significant, not just the items themselves, but also the countless layers of packaging that often meet their fate in the trash almost immediately (University of California, Ogasawara, 2024). While collectibles are often assumed to have a longer presence in people’s lives, we are all subject to the fast-paced trend cycles that companies depend on. By constantly enticing consumers with limited-edition drops, blind boxes, and exclusive events, collections can never truly be complete. Moreover, new product lines introducing entirely new genres of toys flood the market, making what was once new become old, and consigning once-loved items to a growing mountain of waste.
Most of these goods are made from plastic and polyester, materials that are rarely recyclable. For example, Smiskis and Sonny Angels are largely made of “ATBC-PVC plastic…[which] is notoriously resistant to biodegradation. Therefore, waste services don’t recycle these toys because [the] cost of breaking down and processing the materials is prohibitive” (University of California, Ogasawara, 2024). Taking the entire lifecycle of purchases into account is a crucial step toward aligning our consumption habits with our broader values.
It’s also equally important to acknowledge the responsibility of producers, who shape the environment that makes these purchases so irresistible. I mean, who can resist a smiling potato with silly dangling feet? We’re only human after all. Too often, the blame falls solely on consumers, with little attention paid to the conditions that drive us to continually seek more. Companies must be held accountable for what happens to their products after consumption, and consider strategies for managing their goods at the end of their lifecycle (BBC, Brown, 2019).
Conclusion
While the temptation of these items is built into their appeal, playing on our emotional needs and beyond, the speedy trend cycle quickly leaves us disillusioned and looking for storage. Before dropping your life’s savings on the next product launch, carefully consider how much you really need a family of elfish charms or fluffy fruit. Through the medium of blind boxes, companies prey on our impulses and cravings for surprise. The fun of these goods is undeniable, but the moment it’s over, we have the urge to open another. As this toxic cycle continues, we end up with more repeats than originals and a sense of dissatisfaction that can only be solved by consumption.
As time goes by and items lose their lustre, we might wonder how these little creatures had such a hold on us. The exclusivity and cultural clout created for them on social media not only pushed their desirability but also fostered a sense of community through cuteness. While this satisfies a need for comfort and connection in the moment, it leaves us with a pile of toys once the moment passes. Disposal options for these fun-loving friends are limited, as they are typically made up of polyester and plastic. For this reason, robust solutions that involve reducing consumption, combined with end-of-life corporate planning, are necessary for meaningful solutions.
Some companies have already taken steps to address this, such as Lego, who now create pieces “made with plastic sourced from sugarcane. It's part of the Danish company's pledge to use sustainable materials in its products and packaging by 2030” (BBC, Brown, 2019). Changes like this can go a long way in altering the landscape of waste for the future, allowing companies to remain profitable while giving consumers some grace for indulging once in a while. Encouraging companies to make these significant changes starts with looking more closely at our actions and sparking discourse, calling for change and making our push for corporate accountability known. Approaching consumption from a place of mindfulness is no easy feat, but thinking twice before getting sucked in by the excitement of limited edition goods and blind box mania may alleviate some of the consequences overconsumption has on our environment.
Edited by Luiza Giocondo Teixeira, Communications & Engagement Director and Isabella Hamilton, Communications Assistant
Hannah Stoyanov
Hannah (she/her) is a recent graduate from the University of British Columbia, where she completed a Bachelor of Arts, majoring in Sociology and minoring in Environment and Society. This unique blend has equipped her with a complex understanding of social relations that are rooted in respect, kindness, and building supportive solutions for communities. During her undergrad, she contributed as a member of the Environment and Society Council, demonstrating her commitment to sustainable objectives and environmental stewardship. As a strong advocate for circularity and climate literacy, Hannah has contributed work to publications such as Wear We Are Journal, an independent journal focused on the state of sustainability in fashion. With a deep interest in socio-environmental dynamics, she is dedicated to fostering equitable and sustainable outcomes across multiple scales.
