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One afternoon at my job two years ago, an alert popped up on my phone: my salary had come through. It was a fair amount for a student, so I proceeded with my usual payday ritual: I opened every shopping app on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on clothes, home decor and a completely unused heavy blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I went online again and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but thought an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I included LED strip lights and two shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn’t new behaviour. In reality, I’d been notorious for it since I started earning.

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

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 decorate the house. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a hidden yearning for new and exciting things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in readily to capitalism’s demands.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I decided to experiment with a novel idea. Prior to buying anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then decide whether to check out. The best part of this method was that it provided me time to reflect – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since adulthood, I started asking myself: “Do I actually require this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the answer was no.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products lingering in my basket, I’d remove them and begin anew. By employing this method, I stopped buying things that I knew deep down I would never use. I once wanted to purchasing three board games, but after a waiting period before visiting the store, I understood I never actually engage with board games.

I also wanted to buying a disposable film camera for my first holiday to the coast. After pausing I recalled I possessed a smartphone, like most people, that features a perfectly good lens, and therefore had no requirement to acquire a separate camera.

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 experiencing shame or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into old habits – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can identify the warning signs early, especially when I’m rushing into a purchase. I’ve realised boredom is a strong catalyst. It’s probably the primary driver of my impulsive spending.

Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our desire for instant gratification. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to halt before buying has felt unexpectedly freeing. To be able to have command over my impulses and remind myself that I don't have to spend my hard-earned money on unnecessary products feels as radical as it is straightforward.