How British Plush Toy Jellycat Brand Captured China
A woman named Stella bought her first Jellycat soft toy during a time of job loss in the pandemic. Encouraged by an acquaintance's passion for these UK-created creatures, her curiosity was truly sparked upon seeing a unique gingerbread cottage plushie on a major social networking app.
Although The Christmas holiday isn't traditionally observed across China, being more of a commercial event than a religious festival, the concept of gingerbread houses appealed to Stella. "It doesn't mean a lot to me... But I have always loved the sight of those sweet houses," she remarks. This prompted her to ask an old friend in Guangzhou to buy the item on her behalf.
That acquisition was made in 2021, right as the brand was poised of achieving enormous success in China and beyond. "People were anxious, and no-one knew what exactly would happen," says Stella, who developed a routine of petting and squeezing her soft toys to cope throughout that stressful time. Residing in Beijing, which experienced among the strictest lockdowns globally, she passed extended periods at home.
Now aged 32 and working as a tourism sector professional, Stella still expand her assortment. Her collection has swelled to around 120 items, representing an investment of about 36,000 yuan. "At my age, you have numerous matters you can't share with others... and the troubles we encounter are far more complicated than in the past," she says reflectively. "The plushies assist me in regulate my emotions."
Originally designed for children, these squishy toys have evolved into an international phenomenon, particularly in China where an somewhat disillusioned youth demographic has been seeking solace in them for emotional support.
The Rise of Kidults
Her Gingerbread house toy is part of their "Amuseables" collection, a range of toys with tiny expressions inspired by commonplace items, from toilet rolls and hard-boiled eggs. These items have become a key "breakout products" which "attract a broad younger adult demographic" globally, according to market observers.
Their growing appeal "may have something to do with wanting to feel a sense of connection," propose cultural commentators. It is difficult to say for sure if the launch of the iconic series back in 2018 was a deliberate strategy to target the adult market, toy manufacturers are under pressure to need to cultivate new markets due to falling birth rates in many parts of the world.
Jellycat made its foray into the Chinese market back in 2015. Having laid the necessary "foundation", the company was able to capture "the tone of the pandemic"—when individuals looked for solace during widespread anxiety—and built on its early momentum in the country, as explained by business consultants.
Jellycat's fame was further propelled through engaging temporary events. These retail events sometimes offered a selection of limited-edition "food" products. Numerous enthusiasts would film their experience being served and post the videos on social platforms.
Localisation has also been a core strategy. For instance, fans were able to buy plush interpretations of classic British fare such as fish, chips and mushy peas at a pop-up overseas. Meanwhile, items like teacup and teapot plushies were featured at special stores in Chinese metropolises the previous year.
Last year, the British firm's sales reportedly rose by two-thirds to an impressive figure. In the same timeframe, sales of roughly $117 million worth of toys in China on leading online marketplaces, per research estimates.
This growth mirrors a broader surge in China's collectible toy sector driven by adult consumers seeking emotional support and connection. Total revenue of collectable items in China are projected to top 110 billion yuan this year, as per a 2024 industry report.
The remarkable popularity of brands like Labubu, elf-like dolls from Chinese toy maker Pop Mart, highlights the market's increasing appetite towards designer collectibles. The so-called "kidult" trend is not exclusive to China; adults worldwide are starting to question "traditional understandings of what it means to be an adult," note academics.
Particularly, items like the aubergine plushie—nicknamed "the boss" in China—have also inspired a wave of online jokes, with many sharing frustrations regarding the pressures of adulthood. The "aubergine boss" hashtag serves as a platform where people draw various emotive faces on the plushie, depicting it in various moods from drinking to forcing a smile.
For example, one Hong Kong-based, Wendy Hui, personalized her aubergine Amuseable by drawing dark circles under its eyes and putting a pair of glasses on it. She posted an image on a social platform with the caption: "The mood of employees on Monday." "I was working from home even during my days off," she explains. "I merely intended to express the level of exhaustion I felt."
Thus, the brand has emerged as an unexpected, light-hearted channel for China's youth to air their grievances about economic challenges, where hard work doesn't always guarantee commensurate rewards. Despite strict content regulation, digital spaces have become an important, if not the only, arena for these types of conversations.
Its regular releases of exclusive designs and the discontinuation of older designs—a strategy sometimes referred to as "hunger marketing" in China—has further driven {