🔗 Share this article

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 proceeded with my usual when payday arrived: I opened every retail application on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, the list was endless. Within the space of an hour, I had spent £90 on clothes, decorative items and a totally unused weighted blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I returned to the internet and purchased a hairdryer. I already had one, but thought an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I included light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn’t new behaviour. In reality, I’d been notorious for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt anxious, exhausted or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it inevitably culminated in an impulsive shopping binge. My justification was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never completely sure why I did this. Perhaps it was due to my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d go months without buying new outfits or anything to decorate the home. So any time I had extra money, there was always a subconscious yearning for new and thrilling things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in readily to the lure of consumerism.

The Game-Changing Strategy

Eventually, I decided to try a novel idea. Prior to buying anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this method was that it provided me space to reflect – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since adulthood, I began questioning: “Do I actually require this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the response was negative.

If I opened my shopping apps and found items lingering in my cart, I’d remove them and begin anew. By employing this method, I ceased buying things that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once considered purchasing three board games, but after waiting before visiting the shop, I realised I never actually engage with tabletop games.

I also wanted to buying a single-use camera for my first trip to the coast. After waiting I recalled I possessed a phone, like everybody else, that has a perfectly adequate camera, and therefore had no requirement to acquire a dedicated device.

The Lasting Impact

It also means I am more selective about the items I do buy, and I can at last review my bank statements devoid of feeling shame or embarrassment.

Of course, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into previous habits – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can recognise the warning signs sooner, particularly when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful trigger. It’s perhaps the biggest driver of my impulsive expenditure.

Consumer culture preys on this boredom and our desire for immediate satisfaction. That’s the reason, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before purchasing has felt unexpectedly freeing. Gaining control over my urges and reaffirming that I don’t need to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary products feels as revolutionary as it is simple.