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One afternoon at my job two years ago, an alert popped up on my mobile device: my paycheck had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I did my usual when payday arrived: I launched every single shopping app on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. Within the space of an hour, I had spent £90 on clothes, home decor and a completely unused weighted blanket that I never used.

A short while after, I went online again and purchased a hairdryer. I already owned one, but reasoned an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I added LED strip lights and two 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 anxious, exhausted or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an unplanned shopping binge. My excuse was always: “It's only £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 poor family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new outfits or anything to brighten up the home. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a hidden yearning for new and exciting things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just financially irresponsible and gave in readily to capitalism’s demands.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I opted to experiment with a novel idea. Prior to buying any item, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then decide on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it provided me space to think – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since adulthood, I started asking myself: “Do I truly need this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the response was negative.

If I accessed my shopping apps and discovered products sitting in my basket, 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 a trio of games, but after a waiting period before going to the shop, I realised I never actually play tabletop games.

I also wanted to buy a single-use camera for my first trip to Croatia. After pausing I remembered I possessed a smartphone, like most people, that features a perfectly adequate camera, and thus did not need to acquire a separate device.

The Lasting Impact

It also means I am more discerning about the things I do buy, and I can at last 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 human nature. The difference now is that I can identify the warning signs sooner, especially when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised boredom is a strong catalyst. It’s perhaps the primary motivator of my impulsive spending.

Consumer culture exploits this idleness and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s the reason, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before purchasing has felt unexpectedly freeing. Gaining control over my urges and remind myself that I don't have to expend my hard-earned money on non-essential goods feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.