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One afternoon at my job a couple of years back, an notification hit on my mobile device: my paycheck had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a student, so I did my what I always did when payday arrived: I launched every single shopping app on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely unused weighted blanket that never touched.

A few days later, I returned to the internet and purchased a blow dryer. I already owned one, but thought another couldn't hurt. Then I added light strips and two pairs of shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, I’d been infamous for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt stressed, exhausted or bored, I would doomscroll until it inevitably culminated in an impulsive shopping binge. My justification was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never entirely certain about the reason. Maybe it was due to my upbringing in a poor family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new clothes or anything to brighten up the house. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious desire for novel and thrilling things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to capitalism’s consumerism.

The Game-Changing Strategy

Eventually, I decided to experiment with something new. Before acquiring any item, I’d put it in my basket, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it gave me space to reflect – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since adulthood, I started questioning: “Do I truly require this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the answer was negative.

If I opened my shopping apps and discovered items sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. By employing this system, I stopped buying goods that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once wanted to buy a trio of games, but after a waiting period before visiting the shop, I realised I never actually play board games.

I also contemplated buy a disposable film camera for my first trip to the coast. After pausing I remembered I possessed a smartphone, like everybody else, that features a perfectly good lens, and therefore did not need to buy a dedicated camera.

The Enduring Benefits

It also signifies I am more discerning about the items I do buy, and I can finally look at my bank statements devoid of feeling shame or discomfort.

Naturally, there have been times I’ve slipped back into previous habits – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can recognise the warning signs sooner, especially when I’m hastening into a purchase. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful catalyst. It’s probably the biggest driver of my reckless expenditure.

Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, looking back, forcing myself to pause before purchasing has felt unexpectedly liberating. To be able to have control over my urges and reaffirming that I don’t need to spend my diligently earned money on non-essential goods feels as radical as it is straightforward.