I remember when the "The Monsters Have a Seat" series first dropped. As a seller, I get early looks at upcoming releases, and my first thought scrolling through the lineup was, "Okay, who is that?" Tucked among the usual chaotic monster energy was this little guy, hunched over in a chair, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. That was my introduction to the monster officially named Ququ.
But let's be real. Nobody calls him that.
In the community, on forums, and in my own DMs, he's Kuku. Or sometimes, I see searches for labubu cucu, which is just a fun phonetic drift. It's one of those things, like the Berenstain Bears debate, where the community just collectively decided on a name and ran with it. So for the rest of this, I'm calling him Kuku, because that's how we know him.
The Kuku phenomenon is fascinating because it's not just one toy. It's an idea that has split into two very different, very popular collectibles: the original vinyl figure and the subsequent vinyl plush. People often get them confused, but as someone who has stocked, packed, and shipped both, they are worlds apart.
The Vinyl Figure: The OG Shy Guy
The first time we met Kuku was in the "The Monsters Have a Seat" series. This wasn't a blind box series, which was a nice change of pace. You could buy exactly the monster you wanted. The boxes for this series are enormous, by the way. Like, comically large for the figure inside. The first time I got a case of them for PopNya, I thought there had been a mistake. They take up a ton of shelf space, which is a real-world cost for a small shop like mine.
When you open Kuku's box, you get the figure and a separate little brown chair. He's designed to sit in it, perpetually looking down and away. It's a whole mood.
The figure itself is a masterclass in character design from Kasing Lung. The sculpt implies a fluffy texture, even though it's smooth vinyl. The paint application is simple, mostly a creamy white with those signature pink ears, but it's the expression that sells it. The slightly worried, downturned eyes. The way he clutches his own knees. It's pure, distilled anxiety in monster form. And people, including me, absolutely love it.
Here's the thing only a seller would notice: The quality control on this series was generally good, but Kuku had a specific, recurring issue. The connection point where he sits on the chair isn't a perfect fit. He can be a bit wobbly. I've had a few customers ask if theirs was broken, but it's a common quirk. He's not meant to be glued down; he just rests there, a bit precariously. It's almost... In character.
Now, let's talk money. Because that's where the story gets wild.
This figure retailed for about $28-$35, depending on the store. It sold out. Fast. Within a month, I was seeing it on StockX and eBay for $80. As of writing this, I just checked StockX and the last sale was for $114. That's a 300% markup from retail. It's become one of the most sought-after individual LABUBU figures outside of the ultra-rare secrets.
Why? I think it's the relatability. While Zimomo is mischievous and Tycoco is a lovable oaf, Kuku is just… shy. He's the introvert of the group, and in a world that often feels overwhelming, that resonates. The design is simple, clean, and emotionally potent. It's also incredibly photogenic, which doesn't hurt its popularity on Instagram. People love taking pictures of him looking forlornly out a window or sitting quietly on a bookshelf. It's a whole aesthetic. The trend of people drawing LABUBU often features Kuku because his simple form and expressive posture are so compelling.
The Vinyl Plush: A Totally Different Beast
Sometime after the vinyl figure's success, Pop Mart released the "Have a Seat Vinyl Plush." And this is where a lot of confusion comes from. The name is a mouthful, and it's an odd product. It's not a traditional soft plush. It's a vinyl figure covered in a short, flocked, plush-like material.
I got one for myself before deciding if I wanted to stock them. The tactile experience is completely different. It has the solid, hefty feel of a vinyl toy, but with a soft, fuzzy exterior. It's an interesting hybrid. The plush version is also slightly larger than the original vinyl figure and comes in a different box.
Collector's Tip: The flocking on these can be delicate. I wouldn't recommend handling it too much. Dust can get trapped in the fuzz, and I've seen some where the flocking has been rubbed off on high-contact points like the ears or nose from being moved around too much. It's definitely more of a "handle with care" display piece than the sturdy vinyl original.
The plush version also comes with a chair, but it's a different color, a lighter, almost pale yellow. It's a subtle distinction, but for collectors, these details matter. It proves it's a separate, distinct release.
Price-wise, the plush followed a similar trajectory. It retailed for a bit more than the vinyl, around $40-$45. The secondary market for it is just as strong, often hovering around the $90-$120 mark. Some people prefer it for the unique texture, while vinyl purists like me tend to lean towards the original. There's no right or wrong answer; it just depends on what you value in a collectible. Do you want the clean, classic look of painted vinyl, or the unique tactile feel of the flocked version?
Real Talk: Is the Kuku Labubu Worth the Hype (and the Price)?
Okay, let's get down to it. As someone who sells these, I could just say "Yes, buy it now!" But as a collector, my advice is more nuanced.
The design is 10/10. Kasing Lung captured a feeling, not just a creature. Kuku is a standout piece in any LABUBU collection, big or small. The simple color palette means he fits in anywhere, and the emotional weight of the piece is undeniable. He's more than just a toy; he's a little piece of art. It's this depth that separates Kasing Lung's work and why we often have to explain the real meaning behind LABUBU to newcomers.
However, the secondary market price is tough to swallow. Paying over $100 for a non-secret, non-limited edition figure that retailed for $30 feels… painful. It's a classic case of supply and demand, fueled by social media hype.
My honest verdict: If you are a die-hard LABUBU fan and Kuku speaks to your soul, then yes, he is probably "worth it" to you. But I would not recommend paying peak market price. My advice is to be patient. Set up alerts on eBay, Mercari, and collector groups. Prices fluctuate. Sometimes a seller will list one for a more reasonable price, like $70-$80. For me, that's the ceiling of what feels fair for the vinyl figure. For the plush, given its delicate nature, I'd be even more hesitant to overpay.
And please, be careful. The popularity of Kuku makes him a prime target for counterfeits. The fakes are getting better, but they often have sloppy paint lines, a cheaper-feeling plastic, and incorrect packaging. If a deal seems too good to be true (like a "new" Kuku for $40), it absolutely is. Always buy from reputable sellers and don't be afraid to ask for more pictures. If you're ever in doubt, our guide on spotting fake Labubu is a good place to start.
Ultimately, the confusion between kuku labubu and the official "Ququ" doesn't matter much. What matters is the connection people feel to this shy little monster. He's a reminder that it's okay to be quiet in a loud world. Whether you have the vinyl, the plush, or just a picture saved on your phone, Kuku has carved out a special, reserved little space in the massive universe of designer toys.
It's characters like this that make the hobby so special. It's not just about the hype or the resale value; it's about finding a piece that you connect with. And for a lot of us, that piece is a little white monster, sitting quietly in his chair. If you're just starting your journey or looking to add another monster to your family, you can always browse our LABUBU collection to see who might be waiting for you. You might just find your own Kuku.
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