How the Squishmallow Infiltrated the Youth Collective Consciousness
By Mila Rae Mancuso
By Mila Rae Mancuso
If you were to search “Squishmallow” on TikTok, you would likely come across a video of someone who has a whole community of them on their bed. This obsessive collection of stuffed animals seems jarring, confusing, and intriguing. At their core, Squishmallows are just incredibly round and marshmallow-like versions of animals, fruits, and vegetables, embellished with two big black dot eyes and various happy facial expressions. So what is it about the Squishmallow that makes them so desirable?
While they seem more like the type of product that would attract primary schoolers, youth culture has picked them up and run with them, perhaps partly due to the rather adult-ish personifications given to each character of the Squishmallow universe. Take Seth, for example, a fuzzy brown fox whose bio reads: “He is the first to try a new sport or play a new instrument, and although he may not be the best at everything he tries, he doesn’t let that stop him from having a good time!” Or look towards Stacy, a pale blue squid who “is a shy squid, who prefers to be home with her friends or even by herself. Big groups of Squishmallows make her a little nervous, so she loves to learn and explore through books” (Squishmallow Website).
I turned to my friend, Molly Mcgrath, who was the first to tell me about Squishmallows. After their brother gave them a brown bear for Christmas, they “totally became obsessed with them” and have amassed a personal collection of over 40 Squishmallows. Mcgrath cites the trend’s appeal to trends we’ve seen in the past: “they’re cute and collectible like Beanie Babies and comfy like those body pillows a few years ago.”
They made sure to specify that “Squishmallows are so much better; each has their own quirk and personality; like this one (they hold up a rainbow pegasus), they rollerskate like me!” This sentiment seems to be the pinnacle of Squishmallow marketing. As they humanize each character through biography, consumers feel like their stuffed animals are their friends in more ways than just imagination. As the pandemic took precedence in the past year, many of us have been confronted with severe loneliness and a longing for connection. It’s easy to see how a Squishmallow’s soft, cuddly nature could help solve these problems for many people like Mcgrath: “It’s nice having them in bed with me to cuddle with. I’m cooped up in my apartment and just super lonely. I miss my friends, and having them with me makes me feel less alone… Am I crazy for that?”
They made sure to specify that “Squishmallows are so much better; each has their own quirk and personality; like this one (they hold up a rainbow pegasus), they rollerskate like me!” This sentiment seems to be the pinnacle of Squishmallow marketing. As they humanize each character through biography, consumers feel like their stuffed animals are their friends in more ways than just imagination. As the pandemic took precedence in the past year, many of us have been confronted with severe loneliness and a longing for connection. It’s easy to see how a Squishmallow’s soft, cuddly nature could help solve these problems for many people like Mcgrath: “It’s nice having them in bed with me to cuddle with. I’m cooped up in my apartment and just super lonely. I miss my friends, and having them with me makes me feel less alone… Am I crazy for that?”
Even though the Squishmallow universe began in 2017, the company has released over 400 different characters selling in 40 countries. This past February, Kellytoy (the parent company) announced that they’d sold over 50 million Squishmallow plush toys and pillows (Business Wire). Indeed, part of this significant sales milestone could be attributed to the virality they’ve caught on TikTok from Gen Zers documenting their collection and their ‘Squishmallow Hunts,’ venturing to stores like Walgreens, CVS, Target, and Costco to find specific animals to add to their collection.
This trend seems reminiscent of Beanie Babies in the latter half of the nineties and Webkinz in the early 2000s. The toys come in sizes ranging from 5” to 24.” The price point sits at $6 for the smaller sizes and goes up to $20 for the more giant animals. At this accessible price point, almost anyone could purchase one if they wanted one. While KellyToy may have good intentions for pricing, the company sneakily releases its collections of Squishmallows in limited sets, inciting a sense of scarcity and fueling a competitive market of resellers looking to make quick money.
In the age of reselling platforms like Depop, eBay, and Poshmark, teens have shifted their hunts for a desired animal into the virtual sphere. According to her description, Wendy the Frog is an avid basketball player and chemist; and seems to be one of the most sought-after Squishmallow on these platforms. We see Wendy, whose price point was initially accessible, reaching upwards of $300. Even that price pales compared to the shocking numbers you might see when you check sold eBay listings. Where you can find 8” “Valentine’s Day Exclusive” plushies of our dear, social-anxiety-ridden Stacy the Squid sold for over $2,000. These hair-raising prices are a by-product of KellyToy playing into the “limited drop” format of commerce, making their seemingly mass-produced products rare.
In the age of reselling platforms like Depop, eBay, and Poshmark, teens have shifted their hunts for a desired animal into the virtual sphere. According to her description, Wendy the Frog is an avid basketball player and chemist; and seems to be one of the most sought-after Squishmallow on these platforms. We see Wendy, whose price point was initially accessible, reaching upwards of $300. Even that price pales compared to the shocking numbers you might see when you check sold eBay listings. Where you can find 8” “Valentine’s Day Exclusive” plushies of our dear, social-anxiety-ridden Stacy the Squid sold for over $2,000. These hair-raising prices are a by-product of KellyToy playing into the “limited drop” format of commerce, making their seemingly mass-produced products rare.
Creating this scarcity around their items can guarantee sell-outs not just because people want their thing but because people want to make money off their items. Creating a secondary market for their product only increases the brand's publicity, allowing their toys to proliferate further into consumers’ minds.
I contacted Depop-seller Joi Li to figure out what selling Squishmallows on Depop is like. After discovering them on TikTok, she started collecting over the summer and has amassed a collection of over 60 Squishmallows. After finding sellers listing their groups on Depop, she realized it was a way to make money before college next year. She adds that there’s more to it than just making money: “it’s a great way to downsize my collection, maybe justify my addiction, but also you can trade with other collectors. It’s cute. We’re just like a little family.”
I contacted Depop-seller Joi Li to figure out what selling Squishmallows on Depop is like. After discovering them on TikTok, she started collecting over the summer and has amassed a collection of over 60 Squishmallows. After finding sellers listing their groups on Depop, she realized it was a way to make money before college next year. She adds that there’s more to it than just making money: “it’s a great way to downsize my collection, maybe justify my addiction, but also you can trade with other collectors. It’s cute. We’re just like a little family.”
To investigate further into the craze, I ventured onto r/Squishmallow to research this trend’s hunting aspect. I found a Discord server with over 500 users dedicated to everything Squishmallow: hunting, trading, reselling, and, surprisingly, the competition. I spoke to Luke, an avid server member, to try and figure out more. Luke is a high school student collecting for the past year and a half. He considers the hunt for Squishmallows ``addictive” and “an everyday activity, it’s just something to do,” as it offers him a way of escape: “They’re just really cute and cuddly, and buying them takes my mind off of school and the idea of corona completely.”
Though, in our conversation, I learned about the darker side of the Squishmallow forum. Surprisingly, there is an element of competition amongst the members of this community: “I feel really jealous, or overall saddened if I don’t find a specific Squishmallow I want and it’s literally because of the fact that other people share posts and just you know, show off.” However, this feeling isn’t exclusive to members of this community; as we’ve witnessed in the past, this “limited drop” format of commerce popularized by fashion brands like Supreme ensures a sense of anxiety in the consumers, a feeling that they have to get one, even if they don’t necessarily want one. Luke commented on his recent purchase of the entire Squishmallow Easter collection: “I realized that I only bought them because of the scarcity and how other people wanted them, not for my own enjoyment.”
What started as a simple curiosity about this generation’s comradery around stuffed animals quickly transformed into a larger commentary on what it’s like being a teenager today, facing the toils of loneliness and longing for connection. The Squishmallow trend coincided with the chaotic shift of Covid-19 that left many teens unequipped to handle the toll of quarantine without some type of fuzzy, comforting companion. Whether through the physical comfort of its fur and texture, reversion to child-like simplicity, or perhaps by activating a compulsive collecting addiction through Kellytoy’s marketing: this strange, stuffed hybrid between marshmallows and cute animals has encapsulated the collective consciousness of today’s youth.
