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One afternoon at my job a couple of years back, an alert popped up on my phone: my paycheck had come through. It was a decent sum for a student, 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. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on clothes, decorative items and a completely unused heavy blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I went online again and purchased a hairdryer. I already owned one, but reasoned an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I included light strips and two pairs of shoes that weren’t even my size. 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 stressed, exhausted or uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it always ended in an unplanned shopping spree. My justification was constantly: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never entirely certain about the reason. Maybe 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 house. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious desire for novel and exciting things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to capitalism’s consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I opted to experiment with something new. Before buying any item, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then decide on whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this method was that it gave me time to think – an action I’d never taken. For the first time since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I truly need this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the response was no.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and found items lingering in my basket, I’d clear them out and start fresh. Using this system, I stopped buying goods that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once wanted to purchasing three board games, but after a waiting period before going to the shop, I understood I never actually engage with tabletop games.

I also contemplated buy a disposable film camera for my first holiday to the coast. After pausing I remembered I possessed a phone, like most people, that has a perfectly good camera, and thus did not need to buy a separate device.

The Enduring Benefits

It also means I am more discerning about the things I do purchase, and I can at last look at my bank statements devoid of experiencing shame or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been times I’ve slipped back into old patterns – it's human nature. The key change is that I can identify the warning signs early, particularly when I’m hastening into a purchase. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful catalyst. It’s probably the primary driver of my impulsive expenditure.

Modern culture exploits this idleness and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before buying has felt strangely liberating. Gaining command over my impulses and remind myself that I don’t need to expend my diligently earned money on non-essential goods feels as radical as it is simple.