The trend has been fuelled in part by Chinese-American creator Sherry Zhu, whose videos jokingly encourage followers to embrace what she calls the “Chinese baddie” lifestyle. Since January, thousands of posts have appeared under variations of the phrase, with users playfully claiming they have “turned Chinese."

While the content is often light-hearted, many view the trend as part of a broader shift in how Chinese culture is circulating globally — particularly through digital platforms and consumer products rather than traditional state messaging.

“Chinese-created cultural products can have global aesthetic appeal,” Dylan Loh, a specialist in Chinese foreign policy at Nanyang Technological University, told Global South World in an earlier interview. “It is not simply the fact that cultural products from the West have a complete monopoly or dominance over media and cultural entertainment.”

In recent years, Chinese brands and cultural products have found new global audiences. Collectible toys from Pop Mart, including the popular Labubu character, have gone viral internationally, while Chinese food chains and lifestyle brands have expanded overseas.

Loh said such trends illustrate a form of soft power driven largely by private industry rather than the state.

“These are the most authentic kinds of soft power because you see the absence largely of the state,” he said. Because they emerge through commercial appeal rather than official promotion, “ people do not consider or think that it is threatening or suspicious.”

At the same time, China’s government has long sought to promote a more positive image of the country abroad. According to Loh, the Chinese Communist Party sees soft power as part of a broader effort to counter the narrative that China poses a threat.

“Using soft power does not preclude using coercive measures,” he added, noting that China’s cultural outreach sometimes sits alongside more assertive foreign policy moves, including disputes in the South China Sea .

Whether Chinamaxxing represents a lasting shift in cultural influence remains uncertain. 

Loh said China’s soft power efforts have historically produced “mixed outcomes.”

Shop owner Zhang Huoqing, who launched her plush business in March 2017, said the trend began when a wholesaler attempted to return one of the misstitched toys. Although she initially agreed, the buyer later decided to keep it. As interest grew from other customers asking about the unusual design, Zhang chose to produce the upside-down version intentionally.

The once-accidental design quickly evolved into a new product line, selling strongly as demand increased on social media and through wholesale channels. What might have been dismissed as a factory flaw has instead highlighted how a small imperfection can capture global attention — and generate real commercial value.

The concept is straightforward: visitors lie inside wooden coffins styled after those used in Japanese funerals. A 30-minute session invites participants to reflect on their thoughts while calming music and visual projections play above them. 

Although intended purely for meditation, the coffins are nearly identical to real ones, including a glass viewing panel normally used in traditional services.

The company insists it is not attempting to shock or sensationalise but to provide an unusual place for contemplation. 

Staff say the environment is carefully controlled and that participants must be in good physical and mental health. Those suffering from claustrophobia are strongly advised to avoid the experience.

There are also practical limitations: customers must be at least 18 years old, under 185 centimetres in height and weigh less than 90 kilograms.

Sessions cost around $13 (2,000 yen) and run four times a day.

While the idea may appear extreme, it fits into a broader Japanese culture of seeking quiet spaces — whether in cafes, hot springs or parks — where people can pause and detach from daily pressures.