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One day at work a couple of years back, an notification hit on my mobile device: my salary had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I did my what I always did when payday arrived: I opened every single shopping app on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on clothes, home decor and a totally useless heavy blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but reasoned an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I included LED strip lights and two pairs of shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn’t new behaviour. In fact, I’d been infamous for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt anxious, exhausted or uninterested, I would doomscroll until it inevitably ended in an unplanned shopping spree. My excuse was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never completely certain about the reason. Maybe it was because my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without buying new clothes or anything to decorate the home. So any time I had extra money, there was always a subconscious yearning for new and exciting things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and gave in easily to capitalism’s demands.

The Game-Changing Strategy

In the end, I decided to try a novel idea. Before buying any item, I’d put it in my basket, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this method was that it gave me time to reflect – an action I’d never taken. For the first time since I turned 18, I began questioning: “Do I truly require this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the response was negative.

If I opened my shopping apps and found products sitting in my cart, I’d remove them and begin anew. Using this system, I stopped buying goods that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once considered purchasing three board games, but after a waiting period before going to the store, I understood I never actually engage with tabletop games.

I also contemplated buying a disposable film camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I remembered I had a phone, like everybody else, that has a perfectly adequate camera, and therefore did not need to buy a dedicated device.

The Enduring Benefits

It additionally means I am more selective about the items I do buy, and I can at last review my financial records without experiencing shame or embarrassment.

Naturally, 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 catalyst. It’s probably the primary driver of my reckless spending.

Consumer culture preys on this boredom and our desire for immediate satisfaction. That’s the reason, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before buying has felt unexpectedly liberating. To be able to have control over my impulses and reaffirming that I don't have to spend my hard-earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is simple.