Has Taste Left The Chat?

It’s been about four weeks, and it might be safe to say that the media’s obsession with the fuzzy, menacing Labubu creatures that have taken accessorizing by storm is subsiding to a level of reason, as do all fads and the obsessions that precede them. 

Collectible culture is nothing new. Millennials and Gen Z have cycled through it all—Silly Bandz, Polly Pockets, Pokémon cards, Chia Pets, Tamagotchis, Sonny Angels, and as of this summer, it’s Labubus: dolls that have become bag charms on Birkins, decor on dresser tops, and trinket trophies flaunted for the chance of algorithmic virality. Whether you love them or hate them, the Labubu craze has never been about the character itself, but what they reveal about the perilous state of our consumption habits.

“Why is everyone obsessed with Labubu?” remains to be the top related search on Google. That question matters more than people realize; if we asked why more often, maybe we wouldn’t be here—trapped in a cycle of passive, uncritical consumption.

Social media algorithms haves blurred the lines between influence and inspiration, so much so that many of us have become mirrors to whatever content we're fed: we mimic hand gestures we saw 48 hours ago, use TikTok phrases we don’t fully understand, and forget the Instagram quote we loved just three scrolls back. TikTok Shop is dopamine on demand, making impulse purchases nearly frictionless, and like many quote-unquote “dumb” trends, we brush them off with a casual it’s not that deep. But it is––if you can’t articulate why you like something then you’re nothing more than a data point in someone else's marketing strategy. Consumerism's strongest vessel.

To be reduced to a people that consumes more than curates is a dangerous spot to be in. Sure, buying the latest trendy accessory can be a means of community-making, but if we only find community through fleeting, unsustainable trends, the greater problem might be that we've stopped viewing community and culture as rich, meaningful practices that are meant to be thoughtfully engaged with, impossible to be briefly collected for clout.

If we can’t answer why we like what we like, how can we ever reclaim our sense of style? Taste? Glamour? As fashion writer India Roby shared for The Fader, there’s an individuality crisis at hand—fueled by constant consumption disguised as self-expression. We tell ourselves we’re personalizing our lives, when in reality, our personalities aren't really ours at all––they're the algorithm's.

The Labubu craze, according to fashion expert Rian Phin, is  “anxiety relief in an extremely hostile era,” where life feels too expensive, out of control, and ethically misaligned (The Fader). In a moment of economic precarity and collective burnout, owning a toy like Labubu offers the illusion of control. But escapism doesn’t sustain us: it delays and distracts us from being intentional with our time. And as individual people with so much to put out in the world, we deserve more than that.