If you think plushies are the exclusive domain of children, visit the pop-up Jellycat Café in the Jing'an Kerry Center to watch adults lining up to buy soft, stuffed toys.
The café, opened by London toymaker Jellycat last month, sells facsimiles of teapots, cups of latte and baked goods. Its mascot, called Bartholomew Bear, features in some of the items
At the checkout, a cashier carefully wraps up a teapot plushie in paper and puts it in a bag, telling the customer to be careful with it on the way home lest the "teapot" break.
This escape into an imaginary world doesn't come cheap. A teapot plushie costs 399 yuan (US$57).
Jellycat Café, a pop-up store selling plushies has become a hit in Shanghai.
Would you buy one? Plenty of people plan to do just that as they queue up outside the café. But some netizens say people taken up by this craze are "batshit crazy" or "obsessed."
Amy Han, who works in a bank, said she bought an entire set of plushies that cost her nearly 2,000 yuan. She said the Jellycat products are indeed expensive, but it was still worth the money because the plushies are "cute" and the packing service so unique.
"It felt funny and warm to interact with the shop assistants," she told Shanghai Daily. "One of them even squeezed non-existent whipped cream onto a cake plushie. I'm willing to pay for the 'emotional value.'"
When paying for plushies mimicking a cup of coffee, the cashier will act like a barista making a cup of coffee for customers.
"Emotional value" is a buzzword that is appearing on Chinese social media with increasing regularity. It conveys a sense of comfort and company that people crave from other people, pets, comfort food and even fluffy plushies.
In pursuit of that feeling, money appears to be no object.
The Butterbear bakery in Thailand is an example. Its mascot if an adorable giant stuffed bear mascot called Nong Mee Noei, which means "Little Butter Bear." The bakery has become a hit in Bangkok, fascinating both locals and tourists with its Butterbear cookies and other sweet treats.
Tourist blogger Michelle Tang said she went to the bakery three times during a recent stay in Bangkok, just to pose with the mascot.
"The queue waiting to meet Nong Mee Noei was always long," she said. "But I was willing to wait, and the moment of hugging the bear was one of ecstasy."
Meanwhile, back in Shanghai, the Disney Resort has found a best-seller in a pink, stuffed fox named LinaBell. The prices for this "superstar toy" have hit over 1,000 yuan each.
Why do adults embrace stuffed toys that were once considered mere children's playthings? Psychologists say that many are probably trying to compensate for an unfulfilled childhood.
"These objects fulfill some hidden yet vital needs deep within people's hearts," said Xu Peng, a Shanghai-based therapist and life coach. "They offer a satisfaction that transcends mere material and physiological gratification."
Xu told Shanghai Daily that such products are, in essence, a form of hypnosis through metaphor, tapping into people's unconscious desires.
"The sellers don't explicitly invite people to become a child again," he said. "Such directness would trigger people's defenses. Instead, through various setups, such as the attire of the store clerks, the procedures and the special playhouse-like packing service, may fill people with the sensation they are entering a play, where they unwittingly embrace the commercial intention that addresses their emotional voids and needs."
A queue still forms daily outside the Jellycat Café, despite that the fact that plushies sold there cost hundreds of yuan each.
According to Xu, the "voids and needs" could arise from a lack of love and care as infants, which might be quite common due to busy parents in China. School years are often filled with restrictions and high expectations, leaving scant room for curiosity and exploration.
"Ideally, we should engage in activities appropriate to each stage of life," Xu said. "Receiving ample love and care during infancy, exploring and playing during childhood, developing our identities and seeking achievements, including sexual exploration during adolescence, and finally, finding our life's purpose and integrating ourselves as young adults."
He added, "However, the reality is often different. Each stage of life may feel inadequately fulfilled, leading us, once financially independent, to seek satisfaction for those once unmet needs. We start all over again, engaging in playful activities, adopting dolls, and finding solace in these distorted forms of self-gratification. This is kind of unhealthy, not just individually but collectively as a society, manifested in individuals."
But it's not all bad. Such products may actually help some parents relate to their children in ways they themselves missed.
Xiu Niuniu, a customer at Jellycat Café, is one example. She also bought a whole set of plushies there – not for herself but for her 11-year-old son.
"I actually learned from the shop assistants about how to tell stories to children," she told Shanghai Daily. "Children face so many pressures and don't have as much communication with their peers as we used to. They need good company, and my son believes such cute plushies are his great friends."
