So, I got sent a dakimakura.
After opening the box, a number of thoughts
crossed my mind—1.
Who cares if they didn’t have a great Hachikuji
cover, if anyone else deserved hugs it’s
Holo, and 2.
Wow, I’ve gone past the point of no-return,
haven’t I?
And yeah, I was highly skeptical that I could
get over my shame long enough to actually
appreciate this gorgeous pillow.
Not even that, but what the hell was I going
to do with this thing?
Yes, I suppose the obvious answer is “hug
and sleep with it,” but it felt very strange
just looking at her, let alone retiring to
a romantic embrace for the night.
Plus, I didn’t know if I could stomach the
thought of someone potentially walking in
on the sight.
But, as with most things, my apprehension
(and apparent dignity) lessened over time.
And there were a couple of things I noticed.
There were the regular physical things—I’m
a side-sleeper so it was nice having something
to prop my knees apart, the fabric was very
soft, and the zipper is hidden so it doesn’t
get in the way.
But in addition, I felt… happier?
Or more comforted?
Like, I know this is an inanimate object,
but nonetheless, I felt a presence along with
a sense of ease.
It sure made falling asleep a little easier.
Now here’s the big question.
Is this part of the appeal inherent with dakimakura
or am I just really lonely?
Well, both can be true, but let’s not talk
about about that second one.
It turns out that there’s a lot of research
that points towards “comfort objects”
like dakimakura as being beneficial for mental
well-being.
For example, in times of stress, people tend
to unconsciously value things they can cuddle
or otherwise physically interact with more
highly.
One study found that after causing participants
to be more aware of their own mortality, low
self-esteem individuals priced a teddy bear
almost twice as high as those who weren’t
primed.
Sander Koole, lead researcher, stated, “Our
findings show that even touching an inanimate
object—such as a teddy bear—can soothe
existential fears.”
Who knew that in addition to teddy bears,
that would also apply to dummy thicc waifus.
The idea of having a personal object to sleep
with is not a new one, many adults report
attachments to stuffed animals or other sentimental
items.
At the core of this is essentialism, the idea
that objects are far more than just what they
are physically.
Things like childhood blankets, treasured
stuffed animals and family heirlooms are almost
defined by their irreplaceability.
A facsimile made up of the same exact material
would still different in essence.
They carry their own stories with them.
Now, this moves from the realm of research
into my opinion, but I think dakimakura are
interesting since they play with this concept
of essentialism.
After all, I don’t care about this pillow,
or even this cover per se.
But while something like a teddy bear might
carry stories of late night sleepovers and
family road-trips—a character carries their
own literal story.
I look at Holo, and I’m reminded of her
loneliness, her hardships, but also her charm
and her cunning.
I’m also reminded of that time in my life,
just getting into anime not knowing where
the rabbit-hole would take me.
Some examples of hardcore otaku support my
theory.
In the New York Times article “Love in 2-D,”
author Lisa Katayama catalogues her experiences
with Nii-san, a 37 year-old Japanese man whose
girlfriend is a dakimakura.
However, a dakimakura is a misnomer.
Nii-san actually has seven iterations of Nemu-tan,
including a backup daki that he keeps inside
his work desk for, uh, emergencies.
It seems like instead of just the object or
just the character housing the “essence,”
there is a balance of sorts.
Nemu-tan is Nii-san’s girlfriend, but Nemu-tan
is neither the character as a whole, nor is
she simply one combination of pillow and cover.
Finally, while there are both physical and
psychological benefits to spooning your waifu
or husbando of choice, one can definitely
take it too far.
At first glance it may seem strange to devote
yourself completely to a printed character
on a pillow, but it makes sense given more
thought.
A pillow doesn’t care you don’t have a
job or how messy your apartment is.
They’re a perfect snapshot of your ideal
partner frozen in time.
From the beginning, a trademark of otaku involves
being lost in the fantasy of what-could-be
or what-should-be, and sadly for some the
allure eclipses their actual reality.
As for me, I’m content with knowing that
having something to hold at night might quote
unquote reduce existential dread, otherwise
known as crippling student loan debt.
It’s just a bonus that “something to hold”
just happens to mean best girl and wisest
wolf.
Thanks for watching and be sure to like and
subscribe for more content.
This dakimakura was provided to me by Anime
Dakimakura Pillow, you can find a link to
their website in the description below, as
well as a discount code that’ll get you
10% off any order you place on there.
I support your purchase so long as you promise
not to withdraw from society and marry a boobie
mousepad.
Special thanks to patrons TallyTal, Lundho,
SakeGamer, Animesuka, and Yo ro ro fiddle dee dee for their
support.
I’m very very sorry about the reduced output
as of late, hopefully today serves as a resurgence.
And of course, if anything I said was wrong,
I’m sorry.
I must’ve stuttered.
