🔗 Share this article

One day at work two years ago, an notification hit on my mobile device: my paycheck had been deposited. It was a decent sum for a student, so I proceeded with my what I always did payday ritual: I launched every single retail application on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely unused heavy blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I returned to the internet and bought a blow dryer. I already owned one, but thought an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I included light strips and two shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, I’d been notorious for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt stressed, exhausted or uninterested, I would doomscroll until it inevitably culminated in an impulsive shopping spree. My excuse was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never entirely sure about the reason. Maybe it was due to my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d go months without purchasing new outfits or anything to brighten up the house. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a subconscious desire for new and thrilling things. Or maybe, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in readily to capitalism’s consumerism.

The Game-Changing Strategy

In the end, I opted to experiment with a novel idea. Prior to buying anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then decide on whether to finalize the purchase. The best part of this technique was that it provided me space to reflect – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started questioning: “Do I truly require this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the response was negative.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. By employing this method, I stopped buying goods that I knew deep down I would never use. I once wanted to buy a trio of games, but after waiting before visiting the store, I understood I never actually play board games.

I also contemplated buying a single-use camera for my first holiday to the coast. After waiting I recalled I had a phone, similar to everybody else, that features a perfectly good lens, and therefore had no requirement to buy a dedicated device.

The Enduring Benefits

It also signifies I am more selective about the items I do purchase, and I can at last look at my financial records devoid of feeling shame or discomfort.

Of course, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into previous habits – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can recognise the warning signs sooner, particularly when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful trigger. It’s perhaps the biggest driver of my reckless expenditure.

Modern culture exploits this boredom and our desire for immediate gratification. That’s the reason, in hindsight, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt strangely freeing. Gaining control over my urges and remind myself that I don’t need to spend my hard-earned money on unnecessary products feels as radical as it is straightforward.