PARIS.- Some think it’s a cross between the Eiffel Tower and a beret. Others see it as a goofy, red French Smurf. Most people can’t even pronounce its name.

It’s Phryge (pronounced freej), the official mascot of the Paris Olympics. Mocked by the French when it was unveiled, it has become the hottest-selling item in town — and a symbol of the transformation of France’s perception of the Games from an unwanted nuisance to an unqualified triumph.

At the Olympics megastore on the Champs-Élysées, 15,000 shoppers stand in a line nearly five blocks long every day to snap up Phryge in its many iterations (Posing as the Mona Lisa! Running with the Olympic flame!) and to buy millions of euros’ worth of official Olympic-branded merchandise.

“J’adore!” said Jenny Prudhomme, a native of southern France who works as a volunteer at the Games. She exited the store on a recent afternoon with a red tote bag featuring the google-eyed mascot, which is modeled on the Phrygian hat, a symbol of the French Revolution. “It represents France, but more than that, it’s a souvenir of the Olympic Games, which have made us so proud,” she said.

With only a few days left until the Olympics close, French pride has bubbled over with a burst of unexpected enthusiasm that gripped Paris as soon as the Olympic cauldron was lit. An earlier deluge of grumbling gave way to a flood of excitement as nearly 1 million tourists descended the first week, and France won a record number of medals at packed events, many of which included the mascot energizing the crowd.

When its design was unveiled last year, Phryge was greeted with indifference bordering on ridicule in France. Resembling a puff of cotton candy with blue stick legs — or, as the French have widely described it, an intimate part of the female anatomy — the mascot was called “incomprehensible” in a national poll.

As a live mascot, Phryge beckons to fans eager for selfies, animated by trained dancers and students in an inflatable costume that is wobbly enough to require escorts. Phryge’s greeting, streamed to nearly 1 billion households worldwide watching the Olympics, has cemented its celebrity.

If sales are any indicator of popularity, Phryge is no longer France’s underdog. “A lot of people don’t know exactly what it is,” said Edouard Bardon, the licensing and retail director of the Paris Games. “What they do know is that it’s an Olympic symbol, and they’re buying Phryge merchandise for their relatives or themselves to show they were at the Games.”

Souvenirs emblazoned with the mascot are the bestsellers at the 140 official Olympics boutiques set up around France and at the official online store, Bardon said. Organizers expect global sales of licensed wares to reach 2 billion euros. The organizing committee of the Games will net 130 million euros from licensing rights, which will be used to fund the approximately 9 billion-euro cost of holding the Games.

The products have not been without controversy. A scandal erupted last year when news leaked that much of the Olympics paraphernalia — and a good portion of Phryge plushies — were made in China.

A spokesperson for the French government said that France “didn’t have enough raw materials and textile factories to manufacture 2 million mascots in a few months.” To soothe nerves, a French toymaker, Doudou et Compagnie, was urged to ramp up production of Phryge items at its plant in Brittany.

The controversy has not slowed sales at the megastore on the Champs-Élysées, where lines sometimes stretch about a half-mile to the Place de la Concorde, the site of the skateboarding and breaking competitions. The queues are populated by visitors willing to wait in the scorching heat to purchase a Phryge keychain, T-shirt or Pez dispenser.

“I’m getting emotional over the Olympic spirit,” said Pahno Georgeton, who traveled to the Games from Houston with a friend. “It’s crazy, you’re on the brink of World War III, and yet everyone here is just wanting to be together and to celebrate.”

Inside the megastore, fans navigate an enormous hall divided into zones with 10,000 types of products. A popular spot is the Olympic pins counter, where the improbable bestseller is a pin of a Parisien pigeon. There is also one of the symbol of the Paralympic Games: a Phryge with a running-blade prosthesis. The pins are mostly sold out by lunchtime.

Also hot are the official posters of the Games, showing Paris as a colorful drawing of major heritage sites transformed into arenas, including the Eiffel Tower, where beach volleyball is played, and the Grand Palais, which hosts judo and fencing. A 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle that weaves the posters together has sold quickly.

Even for those on a budget, money is no object when it comes to buying Olympics memorabilia.

Lucia Fernandez had traveled from Argentina with her father, Raul, and her brother, Maximo, to spend two weeks at the Games. She left the store with a giant bag filled with big, puffy Phryge dolls to add to her collection of Olympic mascots, including one from the 2016 Rio Games, which appeared to be a cross between a frog and the Amazon forest.

“I didn’t know what that was really,” she said of the Rio mascot. “Kind of like this,” she added, holding up a Phryge doll. “It’s like this unidentifiable thing. But I made a promise to myself that I would buy it.”

The store’s merchandise is replenished nightly, Bardon said, to ensure fresh stock for visitors, many of whom start lining up an hour before the 10 a.m. opening.

To reward them for their patience, Phryge is there to greet them. On a recent afternoon, the mascot, aided by a helper, navigated thick crowds and alighted on a small stage next to a space dominated by 300 types of Phryge products, including flip-flops and bucket hats.

Georgeton from Houston looked on in awe. “I don’t know how to say that you’re star-struck by a mascot, but you can be,” he said. “It has pure electricity, I swear.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.