October 7, 2025
MANILA – Back in the day, being a fan meant making your own merchandise or “merch.” People cut, pasted, and photocopied magazines, printed out grainy photos, or traded mixtapes downloaded from online streaming platforms.
Merch was personal, scrappy, and mostly do-it-yourself, an art form born of passion, creativity, and resourcefulness. Back then, it wasn’t about how much money you had; it was about the time and effort you poured into your fixations.
Today, fandom merch has transformed into a full-blown industry. From elaborate album packaging, high-quality photocards, collectible plushies, specifically for K-pop groups, and even a full-blown fashion lines.
What once lived in scrapbooks, autograph pages, and slambooks now fills shelves and display cases. It’s no longer just about how one shows support, it has become an identity.
The photocard behind your phone case isn’t just an accessory—it’s a flex (especially if it’s rare and expensive). It’s a signal. It tells the world who you stan and which fandom you proudly belong to. It sparks instant conversations with strangers who recognize the celebrity in it.
Same with the lightsticks at concerts. They turn empty stadiums into a sea of synchronized color, symbolizing the identity of the groups or celebrities together with their respective fandoms.
There’s even an entire economy behind it. Merch trading has become its own culture, especially in K-pop fandoms, where collecting photocards can feel like a real-life gacha, from the Japanese term “gachapon” which refers to capsule toys that come with an element of surprise.
Facebook groups and communities as well as groups via X (formerly Twitter) dedicated to swaps, trades, and resales of these photocards. Rare photocards, limited versions of albums, and exclusive merchandise can skyrocket in value, with most items resold for thousands of pesos.
Here’s the underrated part: the little interactions in these communities often lead to friendships—maybe with the seller, a fellow fan from the same batch, or even a fellow fan who unfortunately got scammed by the same seller.
This shows that merch isn’t just material, it’s emotional. Holding an album or wearing concert merchandise connects you to a specific moment in time: the night you stayed up for an album release, the concert you screamed your lungs out, or the fan meet where you were able to talk to your K-pop idol bias.
It’s nostalgia in a physical form. A memory. A way to remember that being a fan is about experiences, and that fandom is real, tangible, and shared.
At the end of the day, fandom merch has always been more than collectibles. It’s about community, identity, shared culture and experiences, and the joy of being part of something bigger. The medium may change, but the meaning stays the same.