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One day at work two years ago, an alert popped up on my phone: 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 launched every single retail application on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. Within the space of an hour, I had parted with £90 on clothes, decorative items and a completely unused weighted blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I returned to the internet and purchased a blow dryer. I already owned one, but thought another couldn't hurt. Then I included LED strip lights and two shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, I’d been notorious for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt stressed, exhausted or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping spree. My justification was always: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never entirely sure about the reason. Perhaps it was because I grew up 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 subconscious desire for novel and thrilling things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in easily to the lure of demands.

A Revolutionary Approach

Eventually, I decided to experiment with something new. Prior to buying any item, I’d place 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 gave me space to reflect – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion since adulthood, I began asking myself: “Do I truly need this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the answer was no.

If I opened my shopping apps and discovered items sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. Using this method, I ceased acquiring things that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once wanted to purchasing three board games, but after a waiting period before going to the store, I realised I never actually play board games.

I also wanted to buying a single-use camera for my first holiday to the coast. After pausing I recalled I had a smartphone, like most people, that has a perfectly good lens, and thus did not need to acquire a separate device.

The Lasting Impact

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

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into old habits – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can identify the warning signs early, especially when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve come to understand ennui is a strong trigger. It’s probably the primary motivator of my reckless expenditure.

Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our desire for immediate satisfaction. That’s the reason, looking back, forcing myself to pause before purchasing has felt unexpectedly freeing. To be able to have control over my urges and reaffirming that I don’t need to expend my diligently earned money on non-essential products feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.