A trip to the heart of Labo

The next day I failed to secure Labubu from the original POP Mart store, I decided to pledge to myself to visit Pop Land, the 10-acre entertainment garden in the company in central Beijing-Laurea, the most important sign that intends to come to eat Disney lunch. (“Our art games like Disney films,” says Wang in One company of its kind. “They use movies to reach consumers, cultivate fans, build IP societies and fans. We do this through art games.”

The volume of Pop Land is about 1 percent of the size of the international studios in Beijing and Shanghai’s Disneyland, but unlike other gardens, it sits directly in the consulate area and a small number of subway stops most of the work areas in Beijing. It is in a green space in the city, which means that Pop Mart is not allowed to move until one tree. Instead, the company renewed an abandoned building on the property and called it Molly Castle. The Labubu Adventure Forest Lailed area has become, although it looks brighter and more suitable for children than the original Lung photography. At one end of the forest, the actors put a “Warriors Training Camp” in full -sized Labu suits.

I stop for lunch at the garden restaurant, on the third floor of Molly Castle. The moment he was sitting on a table and informed the waitress I came on my own, I put a luxurious 23 -inch doll on the chair opposite me. My friend of dining is Zimomo, the head of the LaPobo clan in the original children’s book and one of the rarests of the sold pop products that have been sold. Throughout my lunch, visitors to other pop lands continue to ask whether I have bought the Zimomo doll myself and if they can take a picture of it. I feel that I am eating with celebrities.

On the table next to me, or with her young daughter. I ask what brought them here. The mother told me that her 4 -year -old daughter, in less than a month, was found and fell in love with Labo by watching videos on Dwayne, the Chinese version of Tijook. She thought about buying Zimomo dolls for her daughter, but she costs $ 200 each in the resale market, so she is still discussing. On the previous day, she saw on social media that a friend’s daughter had a birthday party under the title Labubu, where the room was stuffed with dozens of rare Labubus. She shows me videos of the party on her phone. “Her mother has paid a lot to get this,” she says.

Since I started hunting my Labubu, I knew that the option is present to go to a distributor, and it is often referred to in China with the term colloquial Huangan (Literally “yellow bull”). I heard from Dong, a Pop Mart agent since 2018 in Shanghai, that many Huangni know the use of robots that monitor social media for re -storage and seizure of new goods dropped by a second. Dong paid a small amount to join the group chats where Huangnu has released early information. He calls himself a Vinho Now – between a fan and Huangniu. It has already collected most of the Labubu products that have been released at all, so it only buys new products for sale for other fans for profit. (Who seems to me is Huanguhen.)