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One afternoon at my job two years ago, an alert popped up on my phone: my paycheck had come through. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my what I always did payday ritual: I launched every shopping app on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, the list was endless. Within the space of an hour, I had parted with £90 on clothes, home decor and a totally unused weighted blanket that I never used.

A short while after, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought another couldn't hurt. Then I added 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 ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt stressed, exhausted or uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it always ended in an unplanned shopping spree. My justification was constantly: “It's only £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 experience months without buying new outfits or anything to brighten up the house. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious desire for novel and exciting things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to capitalism’s demands.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I decided to experiment with a novel idea. Prior to buying any item, I’d put it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it gave me space to reflect – something I’d never taken. For the first time since adulthood, I began questioning: “Do I actually require this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the response was no.

If I opened Amazon, Depop or Zara and found products lingering in my basket, I’d remove them and begin anew. By employing this system, I stopped acquiring things that I knew deep down I would never use. I once wanted to purchasing a trio of games, but after waiting before visiting the shop, I understood I never actually play tabletop games.

I also wanted to buy a disposable film camera for my first holiday to the coast. After waiting I remembered I possessed a phone, like everybody else, that features a perfectly adequate lens, and thus did not need to buy a separate device.

The Lasting Impact

It additionally signifies I am more selective about the items I do buy, and I can finally look at my bank statements without feeling guilt or discomfort.

Of course, there have been times I’ve slipped back into old patterns – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can recognise the warning signs sooner, especially when I’m rushing into a purchase. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful catalyst. It’s probably the biggest motivator of my impulsive spending.

Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our need for immediate gratification. That’s why, looking back, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt unexpectedly freeing. To be able to have command over my urges and remind myself that I don’t need to expend my hard-earned money on unnecessary goods feels as revolutionary as it is simple.