Yesterday they shouted, 'If you can grab it, I lose', but today they are wailing in the group, '800 to buy a whole box, save me, brother!'
In the scalpers' group at three in the morning, messages were frantically flooding: '1500 yuan for a whole box of the high-energy series urgently out!' 'Macaron single sold at a 50% markup!' 'Who is collecting hidden styles? Price is negotiable!'—the once hard-to-find Labubu has now become a hot potato. All this stemmed from a significant blow from Pop Mart on the afternoon of June 18: the Labubu 3.0 series officially opened for unlimited online pre-sale for the first time.
In just 24 hours, the secondary market premium plummeted from 57 times to the original price level, with scalper quotes free-falling like a free fall: 'The recycling price dropped from 2800 yuan to 700 yuan, with no market for it!'
The end of scalpers: From tech bullying to begging for purchases
Just a week ago, scalpers were still arrogant and invincible. In the Pop Mart restock group, they openly provoked: 'No need to rush for new products in the store, we have 'technology' to get all of them; if you can grab one, I lose!'
So-called 'technology' is a software priced at only 12.88 yuan, which, combined with multiple mobile controls, can clear online inventory in 0.1 seconds.
Even more outrageous was the human wave tactic: scalpers formed paid monitoring groups (monthly fee of 15~18 yuan), recruiting passersby to help grab and paying 100~200 yuan in commission, forming a complete exploitation chain.
International scalpers play reverse purchasing: acquiring Labubu from Thailand and Malaysia at a 1-2 times premium, then selling it to Europe and America at three times the price. The original price of the Mokoko doll, 399 yuan, was inflated to 1200 yuan in Malaysia, with a single profit reaching tens of thousands. These operations left ordinary consumers in despair—wanting to buy a doll at the original price is harder than winning the lottery.
The moment of the crash: a financial tsunami triggered by a pre-sale
On the evening of June 18, Pop Mart suddenly opened pre-sales for the Labubu 3.0 'high-energy' series on its official mall. Although the system crashed multiple times due to a surge in traffic, countless ordinary fans finally snagged the long-desired orders.
The scalper market has crashed:
The recycling price of a whole box plummeted from 2800 yuan to 650~800 yuan, with a decline of over 60%;
Scalpers attempted to sell pre-sale qualifications for 1200 yuan, but no one in the group took the bait, being mocked as 'still dreaming after the crash';
Platforms like Dewu still list prices unrealistically high at over 1500 yuan, but the transaction volume is zero, becoming a self-deceptive number game.
This avalanche had long been foretold: previously, the Labubu and Vans collaboration was inflated to 34,500 yuan (a 57-fold premium), with ordinary models generally seeing a premium of 3~30 times, and the bubble had swollen to the brink of collapse.
A global farce: from brawls in London to sales suspension in Korea
The hype around Labubu has long transcended commercial boundaries, evolving into a global social event:
London, UK: Brawls broke out at the Stratford shopping center, with multiple people fighting, security being accidentally injured while trying to break it up, and finally, Pop Mart announced a suspension of sales in the UK;
Seoul, South Korea: Fans queuing overnight triggered chaos, police were dispatched to maintain order, and the official sales were urgently halted;
Bangkok, Thailand: Single-store daily sales exceeded ten million, scalpers hired people to queue, forming a 'human wall', and local players had nowhere to complain.
While the mint green Labubu with an auction price of 1.08 million yuan was trending, ordinary consumers were fighting for original price dolls—this sense of tearing finally triggered the brand's self-rescue mechanism.
Who should take the blame? The collusion of hunger marketing and greed.
On the surface, it seems to be the work of scalpers, but it is actually the result of a conspiracy among multiple parties:
The contradictory mentality of Pop Mart
While claiming to 'optimize the consumer experience', they have long tolerated the hype of scarcity. Founder Wang Ning bluntly stated: 'Controlling production to maintain scarcity', a strategy that stimulates short-term profits but leads the brand into a trust crisis. Ironically, overseas stores are prioritized for supply (such as Bangkok's single store daily sales breaking ten million), further squeezing domestic supply.
The irrational frenzy of consumers
Young people are willing to overspend to collect hidden styles: some girls spent 100,000 yuan over two years to buy boxes; others paid for 'social currency' labels, believing that 'hanging Labubu on the bag = entering the trendy circle'. This mentality played right into the hands of scalpers.
The loopholes in the platform's rules
Unlimited purchases of box-drawing machines, a non-transparent replenishment mechanism, rampant unofficial software... the technical defenses are virtually nonexistent, allowing scalpers to enter a no-man's land.
The dawn after the burst: returning to the essence of IP is the right path
A crash may not be a bad thing; it could become an opportunity for the industry's rebirth:
Regarding consumers:
The pre-sale mechanism made purchasing at the original price possible, with even 'Labubu rental' services appearing on second-hand platforms (daily rental 30~80 yuan) to meet social media photo needs;
Regarding Pop Mart:
It is necessary to balance scarcity and fairness, such as establishing a real-name limit purchase system, publicly disclosing replenishment data, and expanding production capacity in Vietnam/Indonesia (expected to be operational in the second half of the year);
Regarding the industry:
Beware of the risk of relying on a single IP, and accelerate the incubation of new characters. After all, a healthy market should not only have one 'plastic Maotai'.
Summary:
The crash of Labubu is not the end of the trendy toy economy, but the beginning of industry reshuffling.
As scalpers busily sold off their inventory, real players were waiting for the next 'Labubu' to appear. This bubble teaches us: any revelry detached from value will ultimately return to rationality. Those who remain clear-headed in the tide will eventually find real shells after the tide recedes.
What are your personal opinions on this 'crash'? Feel free to leave a comment.
Author: Classmate Xiaoman
