Labubu craze fuels dangerous fake toys, parents warned

The Labubu boom has moved far beyond collectible disappointment. As blind-box hype pushed viral squishy toys into corner shops and online marketplaces, fake versions began showing up with hidden hazards: toxic chemicals, volatile organic compounds, and parts that can break apart in a child’s mouth.

The newest craze has the same fuel that drove Labubu into the mainstream: TikTok unboxing videos, playground chatter, and the rush to own whatever everyone else is chasing. The current wave centers on gel-filled, dough-like squishy dumpling toys packaged in a plastic bamboo steamer, a format built for impulse buys and fast resale. Once that kind of demand takes off, knockoffs follow quickly, and the Labubu market has become the clearest example of how fast imitation can scale.

Among collectors, the counterfeit versions already have a name: lafufus. They often reveal themselves only after purchase, with the wrong number of teeth, missing eyes, loose eyes, or other obvious defects. That visual giveaway matters less than the wider risk, because many parents do not realize they are buying a fake until after the money is spent and the toy is already in a child’s hands.

The safety concerns are sharper than the usual knockoff complaints. Fake toys of this kind can expose children to toxic chemicals and volatile organic compounds, trigger skin irritation or blistering, and shed microplastics if they burst. They can also create choking or poisoning risks if children put them in their mouths or mistake them for food, which is exactly the kind of confusion these soft, food-like designs can invite.

The danger is amplified by where these toys are turning up. They are being sold in ordinary retail settings, including corner shops, as well as across online marketplaces and other low-price impulse channels where authenticity is easy to miss. That has made the Labubu craze more than a resale story. It has become a reference point for a broader counterfeit-toy economy, where viral demand gives imitators a fast route into the marketplace and leaves buyers to sort out the risks after the fact.

For collectors and parents alike, the warning is now tied to the same thing that made Labubu explode in the first place: hype. When a collectible becomes a cultural signal, counterfeiters move in fast, and the toys that look closest to the trend can carry the biggest safety problems.