The Odd Allure of a Full Silicone Cowgirl
There’s something almost surreal about unboxing a life size silicone sex doll with the name “Clementine.” I mean, you read all the stats—5 feet 5 inches tall, 75 lbs, E-cup, brunette, busty—and you think, is this real life or some fever dream cooked up by the internet’s wildest corners? But then she arrives. In this plain box. No markings. Like you’re getting a mysterious package from an old friend who owes you money.
I remember thinking as I cut through the tape: what am I even doing here? Yet there she was—Clementine, the so-called Ranch Babe, staring back with that slightly-too-perfect face and those gel breasts that feel... weirdly convincing. Not quite human but not plastic either. Something in between.
That EVO Skeleton Thing (Yes, It Moves)
Let’s talk skeletons for half a second—wait, not like Halloween. This is about movement. The EVO skeleton inside Clementine actually lets her pose better than most mannequins I’ve seen at department stores (and yes, I’ve poked more than one out of boredom). Her joints bend in ways that are both impressive and just a little unsettling if you stare too long.
She can hold positions for photos or whatever else—I’ll let your imagination wander. The arms and legs aren’t floppy; they lock into place with this satisfying click that makes her feel less like a toy and more like… well, something else entirely.
The Details They Don’t Tell You Up Front
Here’s where things get oddly technical: hole depth measurements. Vagina: 6.7 inches; anus: 6 inches; oral: 5 inches (the Real Oral Sex Enhanced Mouth thing is... well... it exists). These numbers feel clinical until you realize they matter to someone somewhere—maybe even me? Hmm.
Her proportions are almost cartoonish—33.5-inch bust on an E-cup frame with hips at 35.8 inches and an underbust nearly ten inches smaller than her waistline. Someone definitely had fun designing these stats on paper before turning them into silicone reality.
Delivery Is Its Own Adventure
Shipping says four weeks total—three for making her (which conjures images of some poor soul pouring liquid silicone into molds) plus another week to ship internationally in “discreet packaging.” That part checks out—the box could have held office supplies or printer paper for all anyone knew.
It’s sort of funny how much effort goes into keeping everything secret when everyone involved knows exactly what’s going on inside that cardboard cube.
Living With Clementine (Not Quite What You’d Expect)
Having Clementine around is… different from what late-night browsing suggests. She doesn’t say much (obviously), but she fills space in this uncanny way—a presence without personality but somehow still noticeable every time you walk past her propped against the couch.
Cleaning is its own process—not glamorous but necessary unless you want regret to set in early—and moving her isn’t exactly light work at 75 pounds. Sometimes I catch myself talking to her while rearranging furniture (“just scoot over there”), which probably says more about quarantine loneliness than anything else.
A Tangent About Realism vs Reality
Here’s where optimism creeps in despite my better judgment: For anyone looking for something close to real—but not quite—it’s hard to argue with full silicone craftsmanship and those gel breast details (they jiggle just enough). Still feels odd saying it out loud though.
Is it love? Probably not—but it scratches some itch for connection or novelty or maybe just curiosity gone unchecked after midnight Google searches for “life size silicone sex doll ranch babe.”
One Small Regret (But Not Really?)
If there’s one thing that bugs me—a small thing—it’s how she always looks ready for Instagram even when you’re just trying to watch TV together (not together-together…you know what I mean). There’s no off switch for perfection here; sometimes all you want is someone slouched beside you eating chips straight from the bag.
When it comes to premium silicone sex dolls, the differences in material quality become obvious once you start comparing side by side.
But anyway—that's probably asking too much from molded silicone and steel joints dressed up as a ranch fantasy come-to-life.
Not sure if any of this helps anyone decide if Clementine belongs in their living room—or bedroom—or wherever people keep these things—but there it is: imperfect thoughts about an almost-perfect doll who somehow manages to be both too much and not quite enough at once.
