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.