Illustrated by @jvsh.jns

 

My most prized possession is a plush otter I named Otto. Otto is the indirect representation of parts of me as well as the thing I find most solace in. He does not speak nor does he judge, he simply is there which is more meaningful than anyone will ever know. Going to campus everyday, I saw other people bringing around plushies of every shape and size, a small golden bear, a lamb with a pink bowtie, even a snorlax pokemon plush, everyone now has their own emotional support plushie. But why is it that at the ripe age of 22 am I so attached to a stuffed otter? Why do I bring him to every debate tournament?  Why do I speak to him like he's a real person and gravitate to him every time I feel sad?

I did an egregious amount of research and now know an exorbitant amount about plushies, which I am now going to share with the general public. The general premise is that plushies act as transitional objects, a phrase coined by Donald Winnicott, a psychoanalyst in the 1950s. A transitional object is the idea that a child chooses a comforting object outside of their parents which essentially bridges the gap between self reliance and total dependence on a parent. Since plush animals represent warmth, safety, and home, this allows the child to feel secure when exploring the world around them.

This is important because it's similar to the reason why adults like plushies too, the analysis will be based on D.W. Winnicott’s and his ideas on transitional objects and some personal anecdotes. So the idea is that there are external items like blankets or stuffed animals that children have attachment to during early childhood. These are called transitional items that serve as a bridge between the child's internal world and external one, and are meant to provide a source of comfort and reassurance. The ability for transitional objects to a constant presence means that they can offer stability and familiarity during times of uncertainty or anxiety. 

Even though the concept is usually associated with early childhood, it can be extended to adulthood. Plushies give us that sensory comfort, being soft and sometimes fluffy, means that it itches that part of our brains that associates softness with safety. There's also the obvious sentimental connotations with plushies, a lot of us have been gifted plushies, sometimes by our parents when we were young, by friends, or have plushies of our favourite animals. One of my plushies is a squishmallow cow my best friend gave me and named after the 14 year old alter ego we gave each other. I bought her one in turn. Maria is one of my prized possessions that I still sleep beside every night because she reminds me of my best friend, reminds me of the love that I share with her even if she's overseas right now. Plushies are also easy reminders of safety and taps into our survival instinct as an adult, when things are hard and scary, we revert to a thing that represents hope and comfort and good. It’s therapeutic with the need of direct expression.

Some criticism suggests plush toys are a tactic to delay adulthood and an indication of Peter Pan syndrome in young adults, but the counter argument is much more persuasive (plus, can you really blame people for wanting to delay adulthood?). That being said, researchers like Joshua Dale, a professor at Chuo University in Tokyo, Japan explains in an article for Independent. Co. UK that “seeing something cute trips the neural networks in our brain and makes us engage in behaviours like empathy or a sense of playfulness. It works so well that we feel it towards cats and dogs and even objects like Squishmallows.” The blushing, smiley expression given to these toys – even if that toy is just a fuzzy cabbage – can make them even more cherubic. “If you see something that has a smile, it means that thing is willing to engage with us and we want to get closer to it,” he adds.

There's also the bigger picture, pragmatic rationale why we as young people gravitate towards plushies. It’s a mixture of human instinct and the way we process the world around us. Right now in what most people call the prime of our lives but it honestly doesn't feel like it, we are chasing everything and probably also being crushed by the weight of it all. We're all worried about assignments, how we’re going to get a job, whether that guy/girl/person will text us back, if our moms actually like us, the fact everything is expensive in Subang, how we’re broke, inflation, climate change and literal war. 

And the rest of the world has caught on, businesses are tapping into what’s called the “joy economy” in which consumers seek out comfort and nostalgia in products and experiences, especially when faced with economic or political pressures. “The economy, the wars, everything is really depressing and serious, whereas toys just bring a little bit of joy back into life,” Melissa Symonds, executive director of Toys at Circana said in an interview.  The recently popularised stuffed animal brand Jellycat has benefited from that trend, Jellycat saw its revenue rise 66% to £333 million in 2024, up from £200 million in 2023. 

It’s pretty easy to feel hopeless and that world is too sharp and spiky for a 20 something year old. But that’s where the plushie comes in, something small enough to cradle in your arms, to hold at night when it’s quiet and you want peace. Our plushies remind us that love is supposed to be gentle and soft. The tenderness when we hold our plushies tells us that things are going to be alright, it’s a comfort in a very messed up and confusing world. They are safe in our arms and we are too. Passing along all our worries and fears, safe and sound in the heart of your teddy.

If you have a plushie when it's a gift or one from childhood or one you randomly decided to get, you should give it a hug right about now, they probably miss you and you do deserve it.

Sometimes you don’t have to carry your burdens alone, you can carry your plushie instead :)