Trying Tamagotchi for the First Time Ever in 2026

In the '90s, when Tamagotchi first came out, I was the target demographic: a young girl who loved games and toys, but somehow I didn’t try it until now. It's 2026 and I set out to raise my Tamagotchi to adulthood. Here’s how it went. 

Why now? Sports, Bag Charms, and 90’s Nostalgia.

In a press release last year, Angel City Football Club (ACFC) — Los Angeles' professional women's soccer club — announced a partnership with Bandai Namco. “As part of this collaboration, Bandai Namco launch[ed] a co-branded, limited-edition [ACFC-themed] Tamagotchi" available both online and at BMO Stadium.

I wanted this instantly. I’m a soccer fan who loves video games and lives in Los Angeles. I adore cute things and have a small collection of bag charms and keychains. 

But I waited. And when I went to a game earlier this month, I was combing the aisles for it. When I found it, I quickly tapped my card for $39.99 (plus tax) and walked out with a beautifully iridescent pink box housing my new friend. The packaging was so pretty, I went against my better judgment and kept the empty box.

My Sweet Angel Baby

The next day, I opened it and was humbled by how unintuitive it was. A tiny, non-backlit LCD screen with three physical, unlabeled buttons. I carefully read over the instructions, readying myself for this newfound responsibility. 

I imagine that, as a kid, the Tamagotchi existed somewhere between something to care for and something to kill time. As an adult, the Tamagotchi is a reminder that time is passing and the tasks don’t let up. 

That sounds like a negative experience, and at first it was. This thing would go off so often, it felt like only a kid would have time for this. But eventually the frequency let up, and taking care of my Tamagotchi became a nice part of my routine. 

My Tamagotchi is an Angel Tamagotchi, aka Gen 3. Your first task is to set the clock. After that, it's a bunch of meter management. Gameplay involves using the buttons to toggle/select different icons, each one corresponding to different care tasks. 

Keep your Tamagotchi (Tama) happy and healthy. This means keeping it fed with pie or candy. Sometimes a bat will come to take the candy, requiring you to tap the device to shoo it away. The tapping didn’t seem to do much, but I did it anyway: committed to the bit. 

You can praise your Tama by selecting the little bell icon. And you can keep them entertained by playing a wildly boring platformer that involves jumping over a shooting star. 

Sometimes your Tama will poop, which you can remove by selecting the toilet paper icon. Lastly, the bow and arrow was labeled as medicine; I never ended up using it, yet somehow my angel survived. Perhaps he never got sick.

My favorite aspect is that you’re supposed to select the lightbulb icon to “turn the lights off” when your Tama is asleep, usually around 8 or 9 pm. I liked the insight this gave me into what time Bandai thought children were going to bed. 

As an adult, my Tama’s bedtime was a reminder to get some fun and relaxation in before my own bedtime. And I have to admit, it felt oddly freeing to get a break from my digital child. 

To make maintenance easy, I started syncing up my Tamagotchi care with my Pomodoro breaks: 5 mins to get what me and my Tama might need before I’m back to work.  

I was taken by the way it would change over time as it evolved to different stages. I loved watching him dance: smiling as he slid across the screen, then turning around to show you his butt and wings.

I was invested.

When he wasn’t just sitting at my desk, I’d hang him from the snap closure of my Filofax (binder planner): a nostalgic mixture of woman-on-the-go and childhood whimsy. 

Screenshot of Samantha from Sex and the City looking through her binder planner. (Image capture credit)

My Filofax with my Tamagotchi hanging from it.

My Tama was born on May 10th and grew into a fully raised angel on May 15th. I had traveled on a red-eye flight the day before, which my Tama luckily slept through. At a cafe in Chicago, while showing my friend my Tamagotchi, it reached full adulthood and was ready to leave.

In that moment, I got a glimpse into a girlhood I never had. It was hard not to be charmed by this trinket of a video game.

What remained was just a sparkle animation I’ve yet to turn off.

From here, I can reset for a new angel. But after all that work, I might be a one-and-done angel parent. 

I’m not convinced Tamagotchi is a good video game. In fact, I’m pretty confident it isn’t. Too active to be an idle game and not interesting enough to warrant its activity.  You don't play it because it's fun, you play it because your Tama is depending on you.

The mechanical aspects should be better. But it's not really about what you're doing. It's about why you're doing it.

Having a Tamagotchi was an enriching experience, not despite the annoyances but because of them.

Tamagotchi is in its own subcategory of video games, but it shares one major thing with more traditional games: it has an achievable goal.

But it's unique in its ease and literal demand to be played. Pestering works. It keeps me on track in a way few games do. And it does all this in a cute, friendly wrapper that doubles as an accessory.

The Tamagotchi may be trivial and annoying, but it's lovable and mine, even if it will live out the rest of its life as a bag charm instead of a virtual pet.