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One afternoon at my job a couple of years back, an alert popped up on my mobile device: my salary had come through. It was a decent sum for a student, so I proceeded with my usual when payday arrived: I opened every single shopping app on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely useless weighted blanket that I never used.

A short while after, I returned to the internet and bought a blow dryer. I already owned one, but reasoned an extra one wouldn't be a problem. 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 ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt stressed, tired or bored, I would doomscroll until it inevitably ended in an impulsive shopping binge. My excuse was constantly: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never entirely certain why I did this. Perhaps it was because I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new clothes or anything to brighten up the house. So any time I had extra money, there was always a hidden desire for novel and exciting things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and succumbed easily to capitalism’s consumerism.

The Game-Changing Strategy

In the end, I opted to try a novel idea. Before buying anything, I’d put it in my basket, wait 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to finalize the purchase. The best part of this method was that it provided me space to think – an action I’d never taken. For the first time since adulthood, I began questioning: “Do I truly require this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the response was no.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and found products lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. By employing this method, I stopped acquiring things that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once considered purchasing a trio of games, but after a waiting period before visiting the shop, I understood I never actually play board games.

I also wanted to buy a disposable film camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I recalled I possessed a smartphone, like most people, that has a perfectly good lens, and therefore did not need to acquire a separate camera.

The Lasting Impact

It additionally signifies I am more discerning about the items I do purchase, and I can at last review my financial records without feeling 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 signs sooner, especially when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful catalyst. It’s probably the primary motivator of my reckless expenditure.

Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our desire for instant gratification. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before buying has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have command over my impulses and remind myself that I don't have to expend my hard-earned money on non-essential goods feels as revolutionary as it is simple.