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One day at work a couple of years back, an alert popped up on my phone: my salary had come through. It was a fair amount for a student, so I did my usual payday ritual: I launched every shopping app on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on clothes, decorative items and a totally unused weighted blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I returned to the internet and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought another wouldn't be a problem. Then I included LED strip lights and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In reality, I’d been notorious for it since I started earning.

Whenever I felt stressed, exhausted or uninterested, I would doomscroll until it always ended in an impulsive shopping binge. My justification was always: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never completely sure about the reason. Perhaps it was because my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new outfits or anything to decorate the home. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a hidden yearning for novel and exciting things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed easily to capitalism’s consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

Eventually, I opted to experiment with something new. Before acquiring anything, I’d put it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then decide whether to check out. The best part of this technique was that it gave me space to reflect – an action I’d never taken. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I truly need this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the answer was negative.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered items lingering in my basket, I’d remove them and start fresh. Using this system, I stopped buying goods that I knew deep down I would never use. I once wanted to purchasing a trio of games, but after a waiting period before going to the shop, I realised I never actually engage with board games.

I also wanted to buying a single-use camera for my first holiday to the coast. After waiting I remembered I possessed a phone, similar to everybody else, that features a perfectly adequate camera, and thus did not need to buy a dedicated device.

The Lasting Impact

It also signifies I am more discerning about the things I do purchase, and I can at last look at my bank statements without feeling guilt or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into previous habits – it's human nature. The difference now is that I can recognise the signs early, especially when I’m rushing into a purchase. I’ve come to understand boredom is a powerful trigger. It’s probably the biggest motivator of my impulsive spending.

Consumer culture preys on this idleness and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before buying has felt unexpectedly freeing. Gaining command over my urges and reaffirming that I don’t need to spend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is straightforward.