Meet "Ternurines", the Japanese toys taking over Mexican Twitter

Mexican Twitter (aka “X”) is a special place. It’s marked by a self-deprecating, sometimes scathing humor. Users post photos of local businesses whose signage incorporates popular cartoon characters in blatant acts of infringement. Memes about “Whitexicans”, privileged Mexicans who exist in ignorance of the struggles of their less fortunate compatriots, circulate regularly. Equally popular are the memes about “Shrexicans”, Mexicans who embrace the “buchon” style of dress, characterized by tight jeans, prominent designer logos, and silk shirts with garrish patterns, a mimicry of the opulence associated with narcotraffickers. Other common subjects include their affinity for Dragon Ball Z, sketchy street food, and chat logs memorializing failed attempts at seduction.

Lately Mexican Twitter is awash with photos of fuzzy animals sporting cottage-core outfits and wide-set black eyes. They are overlaid by text expressing sassy or nihilistic sentiments. The recent trend features “Ternurines”, toys from the Sylvanian Families line. The dolls are small, ranging from 3.2-7.5 cm in height, and covered in a thin layer of synthetic fur. They come in a range of species - bears, koalas, giraffes, elephants, kangaroos, otters, all anthropomorphic with jointed arms and legs.

Sylvanian Families are not new. They actually debuted in Japan in 1985, a creation of Japanese toy maker Epoch. They entered North American markets later that year sold under the name “Calico Critters”.

“Ternurin” is not an official name for the toys. Rather, it’s a derivative of the word “Ternura”, which means “tenderness” or “affection”. “Ternurin” translates to something along the lines of “little tender one”. The origin of the name is uncertain. Though, it’s possible that the moniker was lifted from a different line of sort-of-similar-looking toys sold in Mexico by the company Honey Bee Acres and co-opted as an umbrella term for all toys made of flocked plastic, including Sylvanian Families.

But it wasn’t until recently that Ternurines took Mexican social media by storm. It appears that the mash-up of the adorably homely critters with saucy messages is a formula for comic success. And now the tiny edgelords are all over Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok.

But it’s possible that Ternurin memes are more than a format that derives humor from irony. Likely, they are a coping mechanism. Kids who played with Sylvanian Families in their golden age are now adults in their 30’s or 40’s. Besides the usual adult responsibilities, they are facing a post-pandemic world marked by global conflict, a mental health crisis, and environmental destruction. In Mexico, organized crime, corruption, and poverty are a constant undercurrent.

Nostalgia is a common response to distressing negative emotions. Memories of happier or simpler times can provide comfort. It offers a temporary respite from the uncertainty and stress of the present. For Millenials, Ternurines are fur-covered time machines.

But unlike older generations, Millennials don’t have to dig through their parents’ basements to evoke nostalgia. Psychologist Mark Travers wrote that “the digital age has revolutionized the way we express and engage with our nostalgic impulses.” Indeed, with mobile devices and the internet, relics of childhood are only a click-away. Social media functions as crowd-sourced archives of nostalgia, with users swapping media and memories.

Enter Ternurines.

Ale Higareda, of the website Malvestida, describes her Ternu-experiencia:

“Amidst a wave of news that predicts the end of the world, and does nothing more than trigger the 87th anxiety attack of the month, a visual oasis appears on the front of my cell phone screen: the image of a tiny toy bunny, covered in a soft layer of suede and a green floral dress. It is one of the Ternurines.”

Yet, Ternurines aren’t pure escapism. In contrast to Disney remakes or Nintendo 64 games, most Ternurin memes don’t evade Millennial problems. They confront them head-on. The posts explore themes such as financial struggles, dysfunctional relationships, and existential dread. In a sense, Ternurin memes are the lovechild of Millenial nostalgia and Mexican Twitter humor at-large, self-aware as ever.

Perhaps, in addition to the nostalgia factor, their animal likeness makes Ternurines the perfect vehicle to broach uncomfortable, adult topics. The depiction of our daily struggles, caricatured by what are essentially miniature furries, reveals the triviality of the situations. The dopey dolls offer a dose of levity to treat Millennial malaise.

🙊 pic.twitter.com/2UiX0ZdLUb

— Mrs. Lovett (@BettLovett) August 3, 2024

Caption says: “It’s incredible how far you can go when you use your credit card improperly. Greetings from Cancun.”

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A post shared by Ternurimemes (@ternurimemes.oficial)

Caption says: “This isn’t the life I wrote about in my project in middle school”

Yes, Ternurines have taken to Tik Tok, too.

@happyternurin Y arriba el norte 🤠✨ #sylvanianfamilies #sylvanianfamiliescollection #sylvanian #ternurines #calicocritters #fyp #stopmotion #lachona ♬ La Chona - Los Tucanes De Tijuana

Ternurines dancing to Norteño music.

@bealsf Ningún sylvanian fue lastimado en la grabación de este video‼️ #larosadeguadalupe #sylvanianfamilies #Ternurines #humor #fyp #calicocritters ♬ sonido original - Brayan.galllero

Ternurines reenacting a famous scene from the Mexican telenovela “Rosa de Guadalupe”

In a display of life imitating social media, the Ternurin craze has spilled onto the streets of Mexico. Ternurines can now be found at street markets, known as “tianguis”. YouTuber Merlin Plus posted a video showing her trip to the tianguis of Mexico City to buy her first Ternurin. She peruses various stands selling the dolls, some suspiciously sold in unmarked plastic baggies. But what stuns is the vast assortment of accessories the vendors offer for the toys. They have every piece of furniture imaginable, alongside miniature cookware, appliances, food, gardening gear, you-name-it, all in exquisite detail.

Near Mexico City’s Balderas Metro station, an enterprising couple set up a Ternurin-inspired popsicle stand. Called “Ternu Paletas”, they offer frozen doppelgangers for the dolls in flavors like tamarind, maracuya, chili-strawberry, mango, and peach. But the crown jewel is undoubtedly their iconic axolotl Ternu-popsicle, a uniquely Mexican spin on the toys.

Relevant again, Ternurines’ peaceful invasion of Mexican social media and street culture shows no signs of slowing down. Carried-in by the cultural tides, the toys have made a comeback to accompany their playmates, now adults, in navigating challenges with resilience and humor. And fur.