My Dress-Up Darling’s Pervasive Fan Service Undermines a Positive Message

The Winter 2022 anime season is now in full swing, and one of the new currently airing shows is My Dress-Up Darling (Sono Bisque Doll wa Koi wo Suru), which has received plenty of positive buzz for its enthusiastic depiction of sewing and cosplay -- specifically, anime and game character cosplay.

However, My Dress-Up Darling is not necessarily the wholesome anime that some viewers would like it to be. Despite delivering on several well-intentioned messages, the series’ points are constantly undercut by its persistent and none-too-subtle fan service, which unfortunately also weakens the female lead’s characterization as someone who would otherwise be a progressive force for change.

On the surface, My Dress-Up Darling sounds like the kind of show that could appeal to a very wide demographic. Based on a popular seinen manga, it follows first-year high school student Gojo Wakana, who dreams of being a hina doll craftsman like his grandfather. However, his love for dolls is something he now keeps to himself after his childhood friend shunned him for liking something that was “only for girls.” Wakana’s peaceful yet lonely life is shaken up when his trendy and popular classmate Kitagawa Marin witnesses his sewing skills and asks him to help make her cosplay outfits, all of which are for characters from racy bishojo games -- a dating sim subgenre typically aimed at men.

My Dressup Darling Marin Magazine

This all seems rather promising, especially as both main cast members make abundantly clear the hypocrisy that exists in society. The most obvious point that My Dress-Up Darling stands to make is that if Wakana had been a girl (and possibly more specifically, one who was considered pretty or sexy), nobody would have cared about his choice of hobby or dream profession. The only reason he hasn’t had a single friend throughout elementary or middle school is that he knows all too well he would be considered weird or disgusting for liking dolls -- purely because of his gender.

Conversely, Marin is outgoing, fashion-forward and popular, and she doesn’t care who knows about her hobby, going so far as to yell at boys who attempt to flirt with her if they disrespect it or the anime/gaming characters she so loves. She’s also fully aware of the gender discrimination that goes on when it comes to peoples’ interests, making her a non-judgmental and therefore very sympathetic person. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with Wakana’s passion for dolls, she reasons, just as there’s nothing wrong with her own passion for pornographic-sounding bishojo games. The only real difference is that, because she’s beautiful and popular, she isn’t ostracized by her peers for it. On the other hand, had Marin been a boy, she would likely be seen as a stereotypical “gross otaku” -- exactly what Wakana fears about himself.

Sadly, My Dress-Up Darling immediately undermines these kinds of very real societal double standards by making Marin little more than a constant excuse for in-your-face fan service. As each minute ticks by, she becomes progressively less an empowering female lead with agency and more a male fantasy, intentionally designed to take away from the actual narrative and instead simply add to the sex appeal of the idealized “hot girl otaku/girlfriend.”

For every encouraging or supportive line about how there should be no correlation between gender and pastime, there are countless more shots of Marin’s cleavage, thighs or mouth, the camera zooming inexorably in to display her bust, bottom, crotch and underwear from every conceivable angle. The true intention of the series is clear: first and foremost, Marin is a convenient vehicle through which My Dress-Up Darling can titillate its viewers, significantly cheapening both her character and her message.

There is, of course, an argument to be made that fan service is not in itself inherently bad, and that My Dress-Up Darling need not be singled out for it (the ethical implications of a seinen manga-based title so blatantly and unapologetically sexualizing a 15 or 16-year-old girl notwithstanding). However, purely in terms of storytelling, the show’s other themes take a back seat to its fan service, and it would be dishonest to pretend otherwise.

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