🔗 Share this article

One afternoon at my job two years ago, an notification hit on my mobile device: my paycheck had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I did my what I always did payday ritual: I launched every single shopping app on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on clothes, home decor and a totally useless weighted blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I went online again and purchased a hairdryer. I already had one, but reasoned an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I added light strips and two shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn’t new behaviour. In fact, I’d been notorious for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt anxious, exhausted or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it inevitably ended in an impulsive shopping binge. My justification was always: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never entirely certain why I did this. Maybe it was due to I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d go months without buying new outfits or anything to decorate the home. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a hidden yearning for novel and thrilling things. Or maybe, and almost certainly, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to the lure of consumerism.

The Game-Changing Strategy

In the end, I decided to try something new. Before acquiring any item, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice whether to finalize the purchase. The best part of this technique was that it provided me time to think – an action I’d never done before. For the first time since I turned 18, I started questioning: “Do I truly require this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the response was no.

If I opened my shopping apps and found products lingering in my basket, I’d clear them out and start fresh. Using this method, I ceased acquiring goods that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once considered buy three board games, but after a waiting period before visiting the store, I understood I never actually engage with tabletop games.

I also contemplated buy a single-use camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I remembered I possessed a phone, similar to everybody else, that features a perfectly good camera, and thus had no requirement to acquire a separate device.

The Enduring Benefits

It also signifies I am more discerning about the things I do buy, and I can finally review my bank statements without feeling guilt or discomfort.

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into old habits – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can recognise the signs early, especially when I’m rushing into a purchase. I’ve realised ennui is a strong catalyst. It’s perhaps the primary driver of my reckless spending.

Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our desire for instant gratification. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have control over my impulses and remind myself that I don’t need to spend my diligently earned money on unnecessary products feels as radical as it is straightforward.