Selena: Show Girl Sex Doll — A Skeptical User’s Quietly Impressed Ramble

That First Moment (Not What I Expected)

Right. I’ll admit, I wasn’t exactly planning to write about a sex doll. Especially not the “Selena: Show Girl” one—this 5 feet 2 inches (158 cm) TPEE-cup thing with a premium silicone head and, well, let’s just say a pretty bold marketing pitch. But curiosity wins sometimes. You see these things online, flashy photos and all, and you sort of roll your eyes at first. Another “absolute sex dolls” ad in the sidebar. Another big ass. Another claim that it’s somehow different.

But then you actually get one in front of you—don’t ask how—and the skepticism doesn’t vanish exactly, but it gets… complicated.

Details That Snuck Up On Me

Here’s what surprised me: the weight. Seventy pounds (32kg) is not nothing when you’re moving her around for the first time. It’s awkward but real in a way that cheap dolls never are. The steel skeleton inside means she bends and holds poses—actually holds them, not just flops over like some strange mannequin from a thrift store.

Her measurements? Bust at 32 inches, under bust at 24.8, waist at 21.6, hips at 35.4—it reads like numbers on a website until you’re trying to find somewhere to put her when friends come over unexpectedly.

And those hole depths they list out (vagina: 7.1 inches; anus: 6.7)—I always thought that was kind of weirdly clinical until I realized why people care about it… comfort matters more than anyone admits.

The Face Is Where It Gets Weird

The premium silicone head is honestly where my guard came down a bit—not because it looks real exactly (it still has that too-perfect symmetry), but there’s something about the skin texture and makeup detail that caught me off guard. I remember thinking: this isn’t what I pictured from “sex doll,” especially not after seeing so many plastic-looking knockoffs out there.

It’s almost unsettling how much effort goes into making these faces look inviting but not uncanny-valley creepy.

About That Shipping Thing

People worry about privacy with stuff like this—understandably—but here’s something worth mentioning: shipping was completely plain-boxed and unmarked as promised by the seller (and repeated everywhere on their site). No one would ever guess what was inside unless they have an x-ray machine or psychic powers or something.

Four weeks felt long though… three weeks processing plus another for shipping internationally isn’t fast by Amazon standards—but then again we’re talking about a full-size yl doll here, not headphones or socks.

Noticing What Doesn’t Work

If there’s any downside besides storage logistics (seriously), it’d be joints sometimes feeling stiff or clunky during certain movements—you learn quickly which ways she’ll bend naturally versus which ones feel forced or risk breaking something expensive.

TPE material is soft enough to feel surprisingly skin-like but can attract dust if you don’t keep up with cleaning routines—a small thing maybe but annoying if you’re picky about details.

Random Tangent About People’s Reactions

Weirdly enough, telling someone you own an absolute sex doll still gets a reaction—even now when everyone claims to be open-minded online. Some folks act curious; others get quiet-fast or change topics completely (“Hey did you catch last night’s game?”).

It makes me wonder if half the people buying these things ever talk about it outside forums anyway—or if most just quietly appreciate the craftsmanship behind closed doors and move on with life.

One More Thing Before I Trail Off

There are lots of options out there—different heights, different materials (tpe vs silicone vs whatever else), even different faces from brands like yl doll—but Selena does stand out for feeling less cartoonish than most of what floods Instagram ads lately.

Is she perfect? No idea what perfect even means for something like this anymore—but she does make you rethink what “sex doll” implies once all the jokes fade away and reality sets in on your couch late at night.

That probably sounds more dramatic than intended… anyway—I’m leaving this unfinished because honestly there isn’t really an endpoint here; experience keeps shifting each time someone asks about her or catches sight through half-open closet doors