🔗 Share this article

One day at work two years ago, an alert popped up on my phone: my paycheck had been deposited. It was a decent sum for a student, so I did my what I always did when payday arrived: I launched every single retail application on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely useless heavy blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already had one, but reasoned an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I included light strips and two pairs of 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 stressed, exhausted or bored, I would doomscroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping binge. My justification was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never entirely sure why I did this. Perhaps it was because I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d go months without purchasing new clothes or anything to brighten up the house. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a subconscious desire for novel and exciting things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and succumbed readily to capitalism’s demands.

The Game-Changing Strategy

Eventually, I decided to try a novel idea. Before acquiring anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then decide whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this method was that it gave me space to think – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion since adulthood, I started questioning: “Do I truly require this? Is it within my budget?” Most of the time, the answer 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 ceased buying things 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 understood I never actually play tabletop games.

I also contemplated buying a single-use camera for my first trip to the coast. After waiting I recalled I had a smartphone, similar to most people, that has a perfectly adequate lens, and therefore had no requirement to buy a separate device.

The Lasting Impact

It also means I am more discerning about the items I do purchase, and I can at last look at my bank statements without feeling shame or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been times I’ve relapsed into old habits – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can identify the signs early, particularly when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve come to understand ennui is a strong catalyst. It’s perhaps the primary motivator of my reckless spending.

Modern culture exploits this boredom and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s the reason, looking back, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have command over my impulses and remind myself that I don't have to expend my hard-earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is straightforward.