A Scene Witnessed at Nakano Broadway
Summer 2014, in the corridor outside Mandarake on the second floor of Nakano Broadway—that's where I first saw an itabag. A woman was rifling through the secondhand goods corner with a bag whose transparent vinyl window was densely packed with dozens of badges of the same character. At the time, looking at that bag, I thought, "Is it really necessary to go that far?" But now, in 2024, itabags are a natural sight at any fan event venue in Korea. What happened in those ten years?
Let me start with the conclusion. The itabag is a product of the moment when otaku culture pivoted from "concealment" to "display." Taking the fandom that had been hidden away in bedroom display cases out onto the streets. Behind this shift lay the explosion of Japanese idol culture in the 2010s, the visualization of oshikatsu (推し活, activities supporting one's favorite) through social media, and the democratization of merchandise manufacturing technology. In this column, I'll unpack the cultural-historical context behind the phenomenon of the itabag, along with the history of the badges and acrylic stands that fill each compartment.
The Genealogy of "Itai (痛い)" Culture: From Itasha to Itabag
The "ita (痛)" in itabag is the Japanese word for "painful." It's a self-deprecating term for expressions of fandom so excessive that they're "painful to look at." This naming convention originated with itasha (痛車) in the mid-2000s—the culture of wrapping entire car bodies with anime character designs. Even then, displaying otaku tastes on the street required courage, hence the self-mocking name "painful car."
Itabags emerged in the early 2010s. The exact origin is unclear, but the timing overlaps with the broadcast of Love Live! season 1 (2013) and the release of THE iDOLM@STER Cinderella Girls mobile game (2011). The fandoms of these two works created a culture of exchanging and displaying merchandise in front of live venues and collaboration cafés. Bags were a natural canvas. Unlike itasha, which cost hundreds of thousands of yen, you could change your bag daily.
The self-deprecation of being "painful to look at" gradually transformed into the pride of "this is what real dedication looks like." After 2015, photos posted on Twitter under the #痛バッグ hashtag began competing over badge placement symmetry, color combinations, and thematic unity. The itabag evolved from a "painful bag" into an "altar dedicated to one's oshi."
300 Yen Per Badge: The Birth of Merchandise Economics
What supports itabag culture is the can badge (缶バッジ)—circular tin badges with a 5.6cm diameter, the standard specification for Japanese idol and anime merchandise. The price of 300-400 yen per badge in the early 2010s hasn't changed much even now. Compared to figures that cost over 10,000 yen each, the accessibility is different. The problem is collector psychology. If a series has ten characters, there are ten types of badges. With random blind sales, you end up buying by the box to get the character you want.
I first fell into the badge swamp at Comiket 2016. At one booth, I saw an itabag with over thirty badges of the same character. When I asked, "Why so many of the same one?" someone nearby said, "Because badges prove love through quantity." After that day, my view of merchandise changed. This wasn't about ownership—it was about dedication.
Acrylic stands can't be overlooked either. Merchandise consisting of characters printed on transparent acrylic panels with attached bases. When digital printing technology spread in the mid-2010s, even doujin circles could produce small batches. The standard layout became placing a large acrylic stand in the center of the itabag and surrounding it with badges. Badges for volume, acrylic for the center—this is the spatial grammar of itabags.
![Bungo Stray Dogs: The Banquet of the Wayward Dogs - Part Four Tradable Tin Badge [1 Pack]](https://img.amiami.com/images/product/main/262/GOODS-04827983.jpg)
Bungo Stray Dogs: The Banquet of the Wayward Dogs - Part Four Tradable Tin Badge [1 Pack] →The Technology of Itabag Creation: The World of Transparent Windows and Fixing Pins
To make an itabag, you need a dedicated bag—basically shoulder bags or tote bags with transparent vinyl windows on the front. In Japan, specialized itabag brands emerged from the mid-2010s onward, offering detailed variations in window size, pocket count, and shoulder strap adjustment. Prices range from 3,000 yen to over 10,000 yen. Put fifty badges on one bag and the total cost exceeds 20,000 yen.
Pin management for fixing badges is also important. The safety pins on the back of can badges pierce through the bag's lining. If the pin tip doesn't catch on the lining, the badge will fall off. That's where "pin fixing sheets" come in—placing felt or urethane sheets inside the bag to increase pin grip. If the sheet is too thin, pins slip out; too thick, and pins don't reach the lining. The optimal thickness is 5mm. Without knowing these details, your badges will rain down on the way to the event.
There's also an aesthetic of arrangement. The "single oshi type" collecting only badges of the same character, the "all members type" distributing the entire group evenly, the "rainbow type" creating color gradations. Looking at the #痛バ tag on Twitter, you can read a creator's philosophy through arrangement alone. I personally prefer center-focused layouts—placing one large acrylic stand in the middle and surrounding it with badges of the same expression. Because that way, your oshi's face is most visible.
The Visualization of Oshikatsu: Fandom Methods in the SNS Era
The itabag evolved alongside social media. As Twitter and Instagram became ubiquitous in the mid-2010s, fans began photographing and posting their itabags. Tens of thousands of photos accumulated under hashtags like #痛バッグ and #推し活. The itabag became both an offline display tool and online identity proof—a declaration that "I love this character this much."
The word oshikatsu (推し活) became a candidate for Japan's Buzzword of the Year in 2021, but the concept itself originated in early 2010s idol fandoms. "Oshi (推し)" is a noun derived from the verb meaning "to push," referring to "the member I support." Oshikatsu encompasses all activities done for that member—buying merchandise, hosting birthday cafés, attending concerts. The itabag is both the result and evidence of those activities.
In Korea, K-pop fandoms actively embraced itabag culture after 2018. At music show recording queues and fan signing venues, itabags became a natural sight. However, unlike Japan, Korea uses the term "choe-ae" (최애) more frequently. Instead of oshikatsu, many say "deok-jil" (덕질), and instead of itabag, some call it "deok-hu-bag" (덕후백). The terminology differs, but the essence is the same: the visualization of love.
Frieren: Beyond Journey`s End Trading Can Badge Vol.5 (Set of 10) (Anime Toy) →Why Were Itabags Criticized?: The Duality of Display Culture
When itabag culture first emerged, there was criticism even within the Japanese otaku community. The opinion was that "displaying merchandise like that isn't otaku-like." Until the 2000s, Japanese otaku culture fundamentally operated on "concealment"—enjoying things alone in your room, not showing it when you went outside. Itabags broke that unwritten rule.
Another criticism concerned "merchandise consumption competition." As an atmosphere formed where fandom was proven by the number of badges on one's itabag, fans without economic means felt excluded. On Twitter, extreme statements like "If you don't have over 100 badges, you're not serious" occasionally appeared. The itabag was proof of love, but simultaneously a display of capital.
I can't completely dismiss this criticism. But we can't view itabags simply as overconsumption. Isn't figure collecting the same? Spending 20,000 yen on one 1/7 scale figure versus spending 15,000 yen on fifty badges—fundamentally no different. What matters is whether the person gains satisfaction from that consumption. No one has the right to look at someone else's bag and say, "That's too excessive."
Korea's Itabag Culture: Meeting K-pop
Itabag culture spread in earnest in Korea around 2018-2019. Coinciding with the global success of K-pop groups like BTS and TWICE, fans began collecting member-specific merchandise and putting it in itabags—directly importing methods from Japanese idol fandoms. However, in Korea, photocards (poka) became more important merchandise than badges. Random member photo cards included in albums—the Korean variation involves putting photocards in inner pockets of itabags.
Another characteristic of Korean itabags is their integration with "birthday café" culture—fans renting cafés for members' birthdays and decorating them with that member's merchandise. Café visitors bring their itabags for verification photos. While live venues and collaboration cafés were the main stages for itabags in Japan, in Korea it's birthday cafés and music show recording venues.
Anime fandoms are no exception. Following the domestic popularity of works like Demon Slayer and Jujutsu Kaisen after 2020, Korean anime fans also began making itabags. However, it's not yet as widespread as in K-pop fandoms. Most anime merchandise requires ordering from Japan, and badge collecting difficulty is higher. Still, itabags are commonly seen at events like Comic World and AGF (Anime & Game Festival).
KONOSUBA -God's Blessing on This Wonderful World! Trading Can Badge 10th Anniversary Ver. 12Pack BOX →Beyond the Itabag: The Future of Merchandise Culture
The itabag is no longer just a trend. It's established itself as one format within the massive fan culture of oshikatsu. In the 2020s, variations of the itabag have emerged—ita pouches (attaching badges to cosmetic pouches), ita smartphone cases, ita pencil cases. The principle is the same: displaying merchandise on transparent surfaces to show one's oshi.
Manufacturers are also actively responding to this trend. Good Smile Company began including Nendoroid acrylic stands in their regular product line from 2019—sizes and designs optimized as itabag merchandise. Companies offering badge production services have multiplied. As individuals can now order small-batch production with their desired images, doujin circles and fan artists began selling self-made badges. Itabag culture has democratized merchandise production.
However, there is one concern. As merchandise consumption intensifies, pressure grows that "if you don't buy merchandise, you're not a real fan." Japan already had debates about this issue in the late 2010s. Love isn't proven by wallet thickness. Even without an itabag, even without a single badge, you can genuinely love a work. The itabag is just one option, not an obligation.
FAQ
Where can I get materials to make my first itabag?
Dedicated itabag bags can be purchased from Japanese mail-order sites or Korean online shopping malls. Products in the 3,000-10,000 won range are common, and you should check transparent window size and pocket count. Badges can be obtained from official merchandise sellers or secondhand trading platforms, and felt sheets for pin fixing are available at stationery stores or craft supply shops—choose 5mm thickness products. Starting with 10-15 badges is enough to achieve the itabag feel.
What order should I arrange badges in?
The basic approach is to first fix your favorite image (large acrylic stand or badge) in the center, then fill the surrounding area with badges of the same character. Matching color tones creates visual unity, and grouping by expression or outfit clarifies the theme. Don't insert all badges at once—do a test arrangement and take photos to check balance. Repeatedly removing and inserting pins damages the lining, so proceed carefully.
Isn't it embarrassing to carry an itabag around?
You might be self-conscious about attention at first. But at fan events or collaboration cafés, itabags are practically standard attire. If you're uncomfortable carrying it daily, you could use it only on event days or reduce the number of badges for a more casual look. What matters isn't others' gazes but your own satisfaction. Fandom isn't for other people.
What do you think about criticism that itabag culture encourages overconsumption?
It's a valid point. When badge count competition intensifies, economic power can become distorted as a measure of fandom. However, figure collecting, album collecting, any hobby carries overconsumption risk. The key is enjoying within your budget and not comparing yourself to others. A modest itabag with five badges and a lavish itabag with 100 badges—the weight of affection contained within is the same. The standard should be the joy you feel, not the scale of consumption.
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The itabag symbolizes the moment when 2010s otaku culture stepped from the bedroom onto the streets. The badges visible through transparent windows aren't mere decoration—they're public declarations that "I love this character." If figures shine within display cases, itabags are the form of oshikatsu that you carry on your shoulder into the world. Where is your oshi now? Inside the display case, or inside your bag? As always, I hope good connections reach your display cases today.
