When I was growing up, the genre-defining dollhouse sim The Sims was the ultimate escape. I’d build dream homes, cultivate a neighbourhood of weird and wonderful friends and live out a fantasy adult life.
So when EA surprise-dropped a rerelease of The Sims 1 and 2 last weekend to celebrate the series’ 25th anniversary, with all expansions included (my nine-year-old self’s dream) naturally I was compelled to return to my happy place, revisiting my 10-hour pyjama-clad marathon sessions micromanaging the lives of the Newbies, Roomies, and the Goths, and occasionally removing their pool ladders when they were taking a little swim, and only taking a necessary pause for mum’s roast dinner.
