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One afternoon at my job a couple of years back, an alert popped up on my phone: my paycheck had been deposited. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my usual payday ritual: I launched every single retail application on my device. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. Within the space of an hour, I had spent £90 on clothes, home decor and a completely unused weighted blanket that never touched.

A few days later, I returned to the internet and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but thought another wouldn't be a problem. Then I added light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, I’d been notorious for it since I started earning.

Whenever I felt stressed, tired or uninterested, I would doomscroll until it always ended in an impulsive shopping spree. My excuse was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never entirely certain about the reason. Perhaps it was because I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d go months without buying new clothes or anything to brighten up the home. So any time I had extra money, there was always a subconscious yearning for novel and thrilling things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and succumbed readily to the lure of consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I decided to experiment with something new. Before acquiring anything, I’d place it in my basket, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The best part of this method was that it gave me space to reflect – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I began questioning: “Do I actually need this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the response was no.

If I accessed my shopping apps and found products lingering in my basket, I’d clear them out and begin anew. By employing this system, I ceased acquiring goods that I knew deep down I would never use. I once considered purchasing three board games, but after a waiting period before going to the shop, I understood I never actually play board games.

I also wanted to buy a disposable film camera for my first holiday to the coast. After pausing I recalled I possessed a phone, similar to everybody else, that features a perfectly adequate camera, and therefore did not need to acquire a separate camera.

The Lasting Impact

It additionally means I am more discerning about the items I do buy, and I can at last review my bank statements without feeling shame or discomfort.

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into previous patterns – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can recognise the warning signs early, particularly when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve come to understand ennui is a strong catalyst. It’s probably the biggest driver of my reckless expenditure.

Modern culture exploits this boredom and our need for instant satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt unexpectedly freeing. To be able to have control over my urges and reaffirming that I don’t need to expend my hard-earned money on unnecessary products feels as radical as it is straightforward.