A Monologue By Hideo Tsuchiya, Founder Of Orient Industry

The Birth and Evolution of Love Dolls: Orient Industry’s 40-Year Journey

Corporate life never suited me. Stiff, conventional work felt alien to my nature.

Starting in Shinjuku’s Adult Shop

Born in 1944 near Yokohama’s Motomachi and Honmochi, my childhood unfolded in postwar scarcity – no games, few toys. I often played in the spacious yards of U.S. military houses dotting Honmochi. Back then, bullying carried limits; mischief existed but rarely turned cruel. I was a prankster too, but never malicious.

As an adult, I drifted between jobs: dockhand, nightlife gigs, moving services for U.S. forces. Then a friend asked me to help at his Shinjuku “adult toy store” – today’s adult shop. The idea intrigued me. Since rigid office work felt suffocating, I agreed.

The “Adult Toy” Landscape of the Era

Shops sold erotic comics, photos, inflatable “Dutch wives” resembling pool floats, and phallic kokeshi dolls for women. As I liaised with wholesalers and manufacturers, the work grew fascinating. Years later, I opened my own shop in Asakusa.

I noticed a gap: women’s products evolved rapidly (vibrators, etc.), while men’s offerings stagnated. Dutch wives remained crude inflatables with splayed limbs and vacant expressions. There were also “numb pufferfish” sponges – uninspired designs. Why? The bubble economy prioritized pleasing women, while male products carried shame.

Side note: Censorship was fierce. Explicit genitalia or pubic hair were banned. We disguised products as folk crafts (kokeshi, fugu fish). Even Orient Industry treaded carefully for years – though we’re bolder now (laughs).

“These Dutch Wives Won’t Do”

Men’s products lagged embarrassingly. Worse, their foolish facial expressions felt insulting.

One regular customer had leg disabilities. He confided that inflatables always leaked air. Though affordable (¥10-20k), replacements were constant. “With my disability,” he said, “brothels feel inaccessible. This is vital for me.”

I approached manufacturers about improvements. All refused: “Can’t do it.” New molds required 500-1000 unit orders and millions in investment. Small workshops dominated the industry; no one took risks.

So I decided to make it myself. Having industry connections, I believed it possible.

Launching the First Love Doll: “Smile”

I sold one of my two shops to fund development. Inflatables’ air leaks were unavoidable, so I crafted a urethane hip base to support weight. For realism, the face and chest used soft vinyl. Countless collaborators helped refine the design through trial and error.

After two years, “Smile” launched in 1977.

No Place for Shady Business

My drive wasn’t just altruism. The adult industry then teemed with toppoi operators— “sly foxes” cutting corners. Profit trumped customers.

For example: adult magazines sold photos with “magic ink” hiding genitals. Ads claimed washing it away revealed secrets – but the negatives were already whited out. A harmless scam, like Edo-era snake oil salesmen. We grew up being duped (laughs).

Personally, I despised such half-frauds. “Smile” was my rebellion.

Sexuality’s Delicate Complexities

Around “Smile’s” launch, an older doctor changed my perspective. Having counseled disabled individuals abroad on intimacy, he shared stories I can’t repeat here. They reshaped me.

Without him, I’d never have pursued better products. Inspired, I opened a counseling office in Ueno to address sexual struggles.

Hardships ran deep: innate orientations, marital strife, betrayal-induced distrust, even genital aversion. Back then, people buried such shame.

Men’s issues proved especially nuanced. “Visit brothels” or “take up hobbies” weren’t solutions. Many disliked those spaces. Our office welcomed countless burdened souls.

Even today, married doll owners face dilemmas: Is a doll “better than an affair” or “more insulting”? Such “trivial” concerns matter profoundly.

“Lingering Image”: The Airless Revolution

“Smile” still used air-filled limbs/torso. Leaks persisted.

Five years later, we debuted “Omokage” (“Lingering Image”) – the first completely airless doll. Its three-layer latex surface (condom material) took years to develop. Revolutionary for its time.

We iterated relentlessly: “Shadow Series,” “Three Flower Sisters.” Satisfaction eluded me; every design felt inadequate. Yet each breakthrough built on prior sales. Without “Smile,” Orient wouldn’t exist.

Beloved “Alice”: The Breakthrough Star

Our pivotal moment came in 1999 with “Petit Soft” series. “Alice” – her adorable face—exploded in popularity.

Internet proliferation shifted our demographic. Soft vinyl kept prices accessible, attracting buyers in their 20s (previously 40+). For years, we shipped 100-150 monthly. “Alice” became our icon.

Entering the Silicone Era

Meanwhile, America pioneered silicone dolls. Their skin felt startlingly human. We immediately pursued this holy grail.

After two years of R&D, 2001’s “Jewel” series launched. Silicone “Alice” sold well, with soft vinyl owners upgrading. But each silicone doll required handcrafting – max 30 monthly. Orders for 100 units sold out in hours, with 3-month waits. (Hiring more staff then might’ve boosted profits! (laughs)).

Post-“Jewel,” we advanced silicone tech with “Ange” and “Yasuragi” series. Yet we’re never content—innovation continues daily.

The Power of Small Gestures

When praised for superior sculpting or quality, I feel no arrogance. Credit lies in heart.

Consider packaging: Customers eagerly unbox their “first meeting.” We position dolls seated delicately – never like objects. Such care matters.

Our repatriation program (free returns) eases disposal worries. I founded Orient to serve. Cheaper materials might raise profits, but that’s not our aim.

Surpassing Orient Industry

This industry needs ethical guardrails. As pioneers, we bear responsibility.

Shoddy products disappoint customers – and their discerning eyes kill sales. Our showroom exists so buyers see, touch, and trust.

The erotic industry tempts profit-over-ethics, but integrity raises all ships. If rivals create superior products, the whole sector improves. “Catch up, overtake” – that’s healthy. Better dolls mean happier users.

Shared Purpose

Forty years since “Smile” passed in a blink. Hardships faded; steady diligence (no wild gambles) sustained us—though stability remains mythical.

Now I oversee strategy like a director. Sculpting? Our experts handle that – praise belongs to them. But doll naming? My domain. Non-negotiable (laughs).

Talented minds gathered over time. I’m grateful – even that “eccentric” applicant wanting to join us! Our shared mission: create ever-better products. This ethos builds trust.

The Greatest Joy

Customer letters move me most. Many write: “Her expression changes with my feelings.” To us, dolls are like daughters. Hearing how owners cherish them? That’s the payoff.

I adore dolls, but fundamentally, I love people. Perhaps my gentle parents instilled this. Customers, staff – I want to help, to bring happiness. (Especially women! (laughs)). Without human affection, good business withers.