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Stella Huang purchased her first Jellycat soft toy amid a period of job loss in the pandemic. Encouraged by a friend's fondness for the British-designed creatures, her interest was truly captured upon seeing a distinctive gingerbread house plushie on a widely-used Chinese social media app.

Although The Christmas holiday is not traditionally observed in China, serving more as a retail occasion than a religious festival, the concept of festive cottages resonated to Stella. "The festival doesn't mean much for me... However, I have always loved the look of those sweet houses," she remarks. This prompted her to ask an old friend from her hometown to purchase the item on her behalf.

That acquisition occurred back in 2021, coinciding with the brand was about to achieve massive success in China and beyond. "Everyone felt anxious, and no-one knew what exactly was going to happen," says Stella, who developed a routine of petting and squeezing her soft toys for comfort throughout a difficult period. Residing in Beijing, which experienced among the most stringent restrictions in the world, she passed a great deal of time at home.

Now aged 32 and working in tourism sector professional, Stella continues to expand her collection. Her collection has reached approximately 120 toys, representing a cost of roughly 36,000 yuan. "As an adult, you have numerous matters that you cannot discuss with other people... and the troubles we face are a lot more complex than before," she says reflectively. "The plushies assist me in regulate my emotions."

Originally designed with kids in mind, these squishy toys have transformed into an international sensation, particularly in China where an increasingly disenchanted youth demographic has been turning to them for comfort and solace.

The Rise of Kidults

Her gingerbread cottage toy is part of their "Amuseable" line, a range of toys featuring small expressions modelled after everyday inanimate objects, from toilet rolls and boiled eggs. These items are considered a key "breakout products" that "appeal to a wide Gen-Z and millennial demographic" around the world, as noted by market observers.

Their growing popularity "could have a connection to a desire to feel companionship," propose experts. While it's difficult to say for sure whether the launch of the now-iconic series back in 2018 was a deliberate strategy to target the adult market, companies in the sector are under pressure to need to find alternative audiences amid falling birth rates in many countries.

The brand made its foray into China as early as 2015. Having laid the necessary "groundwork", the company was well-positioned to tap into "the tone during Covid"—a time when individuals looked for solace during widespread anxiety—capitalizing on its early success there, as explained by industry experts.

Its popularity was also boosted through engaging pop-up experiences. These in-store events often featured a menu of exclusive "food" products. Many enthusiasts record their experience interacting and post the videos on social platforms.

Localisation has also been an essential strategy. For instance, fans were able to buy stuffed toy versions of traditional UK dishes such as fish and chips at a pop-up overseas. Conversely, products including teapot and teacup plushies were featured at special stores in Beijing and Shanghai last year.

In 2024, the UK-based firm's sales is said to have increased significantly to an impressive figure. In that period, it sold an estimated $117 million worth of toys in China on leading e-commerce platforms, according to market intelligence estimates.

This growth parallels a broader surge in China's collectable-toy market among young adults seeking emotional support and connection. Total revenue from collectible toys nationally are expected to exceed 110 billion yuan this year, according to a recent industry report.

The remarkable success of brands like Labubu, elf-inspired dolls by Chinese toy maker Pop Mart, highlights the market's increasing appetite towards collectable toys. This "kidult" trend is not unique to China; young adults globally are starting to question "traditional notions of what it means to be an adult," observe academics.

Particularly, items like the eggplant character—affectionately dubbed "the big boss" in China—have also spawned a wave of online jokes, where users sharing grievances regarding adult life. On social media, the "aubergine boss" hashtag is a space where fans draw different expressions on the plushie, showing it in different states from drinking to forcing a smile.

For example, one Hong Kong-based, Wendy Hui, personalized her eggplant toy by drawing bags around its eyes and placing spectacles on the toy. She then posted an image on a social platform with the caption: "The mental state of workers at the start of the week." "I kept working at home even on time off," she explains. "I just wanted to express how exhausted I felt."

Thus, Jellycat has become an unexpected, whimsical channel for China's youth to voice their grievances about a slowing economy, in which hard work no longer guarantee commensurate returns. Despite strict content regulation, digital spaces have become a crucial, perhaps the primary, arena for such discussions.

Its regular releases of limited-edition products and the discontinuation of certain lines—a strategy often called "scarcity marketing" locally—has further driven {