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One afternoon at my job two years ago, an alert popped up on my mobile device: my paycheck had come through. 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 shopping app on my phone. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on clothes, home decor and a totally useless weighted blanket that never touched.

A few days later, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I included LED strip lights and two shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn’t new behaviour. In fact, I’d been notorious for it since I started earning.

Whenever I felt anxious, exhausted or uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it inevitably culminated in an unplanned shopping spree. My excuse was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never completely certain why I did this. Maybe it was because my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new outfits or anything to decorate the home. So any time I had extra money, there was always a hidden yearning for new and exciting things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in readily to capitalism’s demands.

A Revolutionary Approach

Eventually, I opted to try something new. Before acquiring anything, I’d put it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The best part of this method was that it provided me time to reflect – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I actually need this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the response was no.

If I accessed my shopping apps and found products sitting in my basket, I’d remove them and begin anew. Using this method, I stopped buying goods that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once wanted to buy three board games, but after a waiting period before visiting the store, I realised I never actually engage with tabletop games.

I also contemplated buying a single-use camera for my first trip to the coast. After pausing I recalled I possessed a phone, like most people, that has a perfectly good camera, and thus did not need to buy a dedicated camera.

The Lasting Impact

It also signifies I am more discerning about the items I do purchase, and I can finally look at my bank statements devoid of experiencing shame or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into previous patterns – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can identify the warning signs early, particularly when I’m rushing into a purchase. I’ve come to understand ennui is a powerful trigger. It’s perhaps the biggest motivator of my impulsive expenditure.

Consumer culture preys on this boredom and our need for immediate gratification. That’s why, looking back, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have control over my urges and reaffirming that I don't have to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is simple.