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One afternoon at my job two years ago, an notification hit on my phone: my paycheck had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a student, so I did my usual payday ritual: I opened every shopping app on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, you name it. Within the space of an hour, I had parted with £90 on apparel, decorative items and a totally unused heavy blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already had one, but reasoned another wouldn't be a problem. Then I added light strips and two pairs of shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In reality, I’d been notorious for it since I started earning.

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

I was never entirely certain about the reason. Maybe it was because I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without buying new clothes or anything to decorate the house. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a subconscious desire for novel and thrilling things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and succumbed readily to capitalism’s demands.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I opted to try a novel idea. Prior to acquiring anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it gave me space to think – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion since adulthood, I began questioning: “Do I truly need this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the response was negative.

If I accessed my shopping apps and found items lingering in my cart, I’d remove them and begin anew. Using this method, I ceased buying goods 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 wanted to buying a single-use camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I remembered I possessed a phone, like everybody else, that has a perfectly adequate lens, and therefore did not need to buy a separate camera.

The Lasting Impact

It also signifies I am more discerning about the things I do purchase, and I can at last look at my financial records devoid of experiencing guilt or discomfort.

Of course, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into old habits – it's human nature. The key change is that I can recognise the warning signs early, particularly when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful trigger. It’s probably the primary motivator of my reckless expenditure.

Modern culture preys on this boredom and our desire for instant satisfaction. That’s why, looking back, compelling myself to pause before purchasing has felt unexpectedly freeing. To be able to have command over my impulses and remind myself that I don't have to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as revolutionary as it is simple.