Furby arrived in fall 1998 speaking Furbish, learning English, and driving parents quietly insane. Tiger Electronics sold 40 million of them in three years โ and then, like all fads, Furby vanished into closets. Now the closets are opening, and the little gremlins are worth real money.
The 1998โ2001 originals are the collecting core. Common colorways in loose, working condition bring modest sums โ $20โ50 โ but the market climbs steeply for scarcer editions. Special releases like the Bejeweled Furby (a genuine limited run), early “Church Mouse” gray originals from the first production batches, and international exclusives command hundreds. Sealed-in-box examples of even common 1998 Furbys have sold for $200โ600, because almost nobody kept the box sealed on a toy that begged to be woken up.
Function is the great divider. Furbys sleep for decades but don’t always wake: motors gum up, gears strip, and the infamous “Furby lockjaw” freezes the beak mid-sentence. A working original with clean fur and both eyes tracking is far scarcer than raw production numbers suggest. Repairs are possible โ the community shares teardown guides โ but opened seams reduce value, so disclose any surgery.
Watch the details that separate generations: 1998 units have incandescent-style eyes and specific tag dates, while 1999+ runs vary in fur patterns and voice chips. The adult-collector wave around Furby has also spawned a lively customization scene (“long Furbys” and re-fur jobs), which is delightful but permanently converts a collectible into folk art.
It’s a strange corner of the hobby, admittedly. But strange corners with 40 million units sold and single-digit sealed survival rates are exactly where future grails come from.