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Mending Hearts

From trendy Labubus to tattered teddys, China’s new ‘doll doctors’ repair cherished companions. But with uneven costs and no standards, the industry’s stitches are starting to show

By Xie Ying , Qiu Qiyuan Updated Nov.1

Dolls wait for “treatment” at the home of a doll doctor in Yangzhou, Jiangsu Province, March 8, 2021 (Photo by IC)

Cui Wei’s studio (Photo Courtesy of Interviewee)

I see them as human beings,” Hartmann, a “doll doctor” in Shanghai, told NewsChina. “If they lose a leg or arm, I repair and restore them like a doctor treating patients. It gives me a strong sense of achievement.”  

Since June, he has repaired more than 100 Labubu dolls, the Pop Mart plush toy series that has skyrocketed both in popularity and value. He has expanded his workshop to keep up with orders.  

“Toy doctors” like Hartmann repair and restore all kinds of toys, from plush to plastic. Some workshops advertise as “doll hospitals,” complete with outpatient clinics, emergency rooms and ICUs. Every “patient” gets its own medical record.  

Experts say this is more than a marketing gimmick. “Once someone satisfies their desire to consume and buys a product, the emotion they project onto the product creates a deep connection. Doll doctors are meeting market demand and emotional demand,” said Tan Yongfeng, a psychologist at East China Normal University. 

Tangible Memories 
On platforms like Douyin (TikTok), thousands of young adults share posts of their childhood toys. The trend is hashtagged abeibei, a Chinese word that refers to comfort objects for babies, such as plush dolls or security blankets. For many, attachment to these objects deepens with time.  

“In psychology, many dolls function as ‘transitional objects.’ When a child is weaned or begins to separate from their mother, they find a substitute for comfort. Many people remain emotionally attached to their comfort objects well into adulthood,” Tan said.  

Doll doctors told NewsChina that adults seeking repairs for their childhood toys make up a major part of their customer base.  

Cui Wei, a doll doctor in Shandong Province, recalled a customer who brought in her plush rabbit. A gift from her parents when she was born, the doll accompanied her through school, relationships, marriage and motherhood. But after years of machine washing and sun exposure, the doll was discolored, tattered and worn.  

Preferring to stay local, she turned to Cui. She had even sourced identical fabric for the repairs and sent it to him. Using design software, Cui replicated the rabbit’s clothing.  

When Cui told her to return the next day, she cried, saying she could not leave her rabbit and wanted to watch his work. Cui agreed. “I could feel how nervous she was during the ‘operation,’ so we chatted to comfort her. She eventually went home, and my wife and I worked on the rabbit until dawn,” Cui said.  

The next day, the woman was overjoyed. “She told me the rabbit looked exactly how she remembered,” Cui said.  

Not everyone, however, is willing to let doll doctors intervene.  

Sun Liangli refuses to have Mimi repaired. For years, her childhood teddy was lovingly mended by her great aunt, who made new clothes and reattached its arms and legs. After her great aunt died last year, Sun discovered one last coat she had sewn for Mimi.  

“I put the coat on Mimi. That’s enough. No one else will repair it. No matter how skilled they are, they aren’t my great aunt,” she said.  

“Childhood toys act like relationship enhancers. We love them because they connect us to other people,” Tan said. “A toy may be irreplaceable not because of its material form, but because it carries memories of relationships.”  

In other cases, toys become meaningful simply because they are personified and given unique personalities.  

Take Wang Bin in Yunnan Province, who gave an elephant doll to his 1-yearold daughter. He told stories about the toy, which she named Ball. As she grew older, she invented her own stories, making Ball kind and friendly, yet also mischievous and reluctant to attend school.  

Now a university student, she still asks about Ball whenever she calls home.  

“Ball is like another child in our family,” Wang said.  

Wang’s story reflects a growing social media trend among young Chinese called “raising dolls” (yangwa). These dolls often allow customization, from clothing to hairstyles. Some resemble pop stars or cartoon characters. Owners take them everywhere, photograph them, talk to them and introduce them as their “sons” or “daughters” on social media.  

“The affection people have for toys, and the way fashionable toys change across eras, reflect cultural trends, aesthetics and social psychology,” Tan said. “In today’s fast-changing, high-pressure society, toys comfort people in times of stress and support social connections. That’s why the toy market continues to expand and diversify.” 

Cui Wei’s studio (Photo Courtesy of Interviewee)

Plastic Surgeons 
Given the deep emotional value, owners do not simply want their toys repaired. Many seek out full restorations.As with the woman and her childhood rabbit, many customers expect doll doctors to return toys to the condition they remember.  

Before working as a doll doctor, Cui Wei had repaired medical instruments and studied art for six years. He fixed toys as a hobby at first, posting his work on social media.  

His career began after receiving a teddy bear missing a nose. It was sent by the father of the owner, a young girl in Central China’s Henan Province, after seeing his videos.  

The girl insisted the bear have its “original nose” – a small metal bolt. Using some steel wire, glue and creativity, Cui delivered.  

When Cui posted the restoration online, more people began sending him their dolls. Last year, Cui and his wife, who apprenticed in tailoring, quit their day jobs to become full-time doll doctors.  

“My job is like a plastic surgeon. They make people look prettier. We make dolls more perfect,” Cui said.  

Like physicians, doll doctors must also study and research techniques to handle complex “illnesses.” A few months ago, Cui received a plush Rilakkuma bear (an anime character from Japan) whose pull-string mechanism had broken. Since the original part was no longer produced, he crafted a replacement himself.  

Hartmann had a similar challenge. He once repaired a 28-centimeter Bearbrick, another Japanese collectable, valued at 130,000 yuan (US$18,500). The toy’s colorful Canadian maple body had been damaged during shipping. To restore it, Hartmann painstakingly sourced the same wood, dyed it to match, ground it up and used it to fill the broken sections. The project took six weeks. The grateful owner later sent him a gift to express his appreciation.  

As with medicine, doll repair also has specialists: Cui excels at sewn and mechanical toys, Hartmann focuses on wooden and plastic figures, and Samantha, a doll doctor in Chongqing, specializes in replicating parts and materials.  

“I was born into a family of painters and have loved handicrafts since childhood,” Samantha told NewsChina. “I’ve also had the chance to learn about materials and skills in other countries, like the US and Japan. Restoration knowledge accumulates over time. You need to know every fabric and industrial material by name. If you’re searching for a Japanese material, for example, you also have to know what it’s called in Chinese.” 

Zhu Boming fixes toys, Shanghai, August 22, 2019 (Photo by VCG)

Stitch-up Jobs 
Unlike the US and Japan, China’s doll repair industry is still new and lacks professional standards. This makes it difficult for customers to find reliable services.  

In 2022, the Shanghai Observer newspaper reported that a doll owner accused a well-known Shanghai repairer Zhu Boming of arbitrary charges. She had asked him to work on her torn teddy bear. Zhu initially quoted 800 yuan (US$114), but repeatedly raised the fees, citing newly discovered problems. By the end, she was charged 8,800 yuan (US$1,257), 11 times the original estimate. Worse, the bear was no longer soft, and its fur had become prickly.  

Many interviewees told NewsChina they had also faced disappointment or unexpected costs when having toys repaired.  

Pricing disputes are the most common complaint. Li Ou, a university graduate in South China’s Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, said she paid more than 1,000 yuan (US$142) for a cleaning, fur repair and re-stuffing.  

“The initial price list looked affordable, but the fees kept increasing during the repair. For a student like me, it was a lot. In the end, I gave up on the re-stuffing because of the cost, and they didn’t even keep the original stuffing as I had requested,” she said.  

Wang Bin shared a similar experience. He once considered repairing his daughter’s doll, but gave up on the idea when he was quoted over 10,000 yuan (US$1,429).  

In 2024, Zhu faced new complaints from a customer who brought in an abeibei cushion. Again, fees ballooned from the initial quote to over 10,000 yuan, with charges ranging from more than 700 yuan (US$100) for cleaning to re-stuffing fees charged per square centimeter.  

But doll doctors told NewsChina that fair pricing is possible. Cui explained that fees typically range from a few dozen to several hundred yuan, depending on the complexity of the job. Highly skilled work like re-stuffing is more expensive. “For materials, we charge at cost. Labor is generally 50 yuan (US$7) per hour. We always discuss the price and repairs with customers in advance,” Cui said.  

Samantha added that she usually charges about one-tenth of the doll’s original value. “I want the price to be acceptable for people,” she said.  

Zhu defended his fees in earlier media interviews, arguing that his prices were reasonable and they are even higher in places like Japan.  

But Tao Jie, a Chinese living and working in Japan, had a different experience. She told NewsChina how her childhood bear was repaired at a doll hospital in Tokyo affiliated with the Japan Toy Hospital Association. Repairers explained the process in detail, took her to select materials and later gave her a video of the repairs. She paid only 48 yuan (US$7) for cloth and new eyes. When she picked up the bear, staff even held a “farewell ceremony” for the replaced parts, carefully boxed and returned to her.  

“The whole process was highly standardized, and prices were transparent. Everything was on their official website,” Tao said.  

Founded in 1996, the Japan Toy Hospital Association oversees both non-profit and commercial doll hospitals, which offer services ranging from cleaning to alterations. Its general secretary, Teruo Nitta, told NewsChina the association provides training in both general knowledge and technical skills. From 1996 to mid-2025, it has organized 128 training sessions, and no doctor can practice independently until they have repaired around 50 toys during an internship.  

China lacks compulsory training. “Toy doctors need expertise, such as how plush dolls are made, how fabrics are woven and dyed. But many people enter the business after learning only simple techniques,” said Qian Zhaorong, a Shanghai doll doctor and former plush toy factory manager. 

A niche profession for now, toy repair’s future development hinges on adjacent industries. “With demand growing, people from toy, clothing and even luggage repair industries may join in,” said Peng Jian, an associate researcher at the School of Cultural Industries Management at the Communication University of China in Beijing. “If the market expands, third-party agencies or watchdogs may emerge. As leading repairers gain influence, they may establish self-regulatory organizations, allowing the industry to mature on its own,” he added.

Tao Jie’s teddy bear that she has sent to the Japan Toy Hospital, Tokyo, Japan (Photo Courtesy of Interviewee)

Wang Bin’s daughter’s elephant doll family (Photo Courtesy of Interviewee)

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