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One day at work two years ago, an alert popped up on my phone: my salary had come through. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I did my usual payday ritual: I launched every shopping app on my phone. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on apparel, decorative items and a completely useless heavy blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I returned to the internet and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but reasoned another couldn't hurt. Then I included light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, I’d been infamous for it since I started earning.

Whenever I felt anxious, exhausted or uninterested, I would doomscroll until it inevitably culminated in an unplanned shopping binge. My justification was always: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never entirely certain why I did this. Perhaps it was because my upbringing in a poor family, where we’d go months without buying new clothes or anything to brighten up the home. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a hidden desire for novel and thrilling things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in easily to capitalism’s demands.

The Game-Changing Strategy

Eventually, I opted to try something new. Before acquiring anything, I’d put it in my basket, wait 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The best part of this method was that it provided me time to reflect – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I actually need this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the response was no.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products lingering in my cart, I’d remove them and begin anew. Using this system, I stopped buying goods that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once considered purchasing a trio of games, but after waiting before visiting the shop, I realised I never actually engage with tabletop games.

I also contemplated buying a disposable film camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I recalled I had a phone, like most people, that features a perfectly good camera, and thus did not need to buy a separate camera.

The Lasting Impact

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

Naturally, there have been times I’ve slipped back into old habits – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can recognise the signs early, particularly when I’m hastening into a purchase. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful catalyst. It’s probably the primary driver of my reckless expenditure.

Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our desire for immediate gratification. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before buying has felt unexpectedly liberating. To be able to have command over my impulses and reaffirming that I don’t need to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary products feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.