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One day at work two years ago, an alert popped up on my phone: my paycheck had come through. It was a decent sum for a student, so I did my usual payday ritual: I opened every single shopping app on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on clothes, decorative items and a completely unused heavy blanket that never touched.

A few days later, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought another wouldn't be a problem. Then I included LED strip lights 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, tired or uninterested, I would doomscroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping spree. My excuse was constantly: “It's only £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never completely certain about the reason. Maybe it was because I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without buying new outfits or anything to decorate the house. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious yearning for new and exciting things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and gave in easily to the lure of consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

Eventually, I opted to try something new. Prior to acquiring anything, I’d put it in my basket, wait 24 hours, then decide on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this method was that it provided me time to think – something I’d never taken. For the first time since I turned 18, I began questioning: “Do I actually require this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the answer was negative.

If I accessed my shopping apps and found products sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. Using this method, I stopped buying things that I knew deep down I would never use. I once wanted to buy three board games, but after a waiting period before visiting the shop, I realised I never actually engage with board games.

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

The Enduring Benefits

It also signifies I am more selective about the things I do purchase, and I can at last review my financial records devoid of experiencing guilt or discomfort.

Of course, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into previous habits – it's human nature. The difference now is that I can recognise the signs sooner, especially when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve come to understand boredom is a strong catalyst. It’s perhaps the primary driver of my reckless spending.

Consumer culture exploits this idleness and our need for instant gratification. That’s the reason, looking back, forcing myself to pause before buying has felt strangely liberating. To be able to have command over my impulses and reaffirming that I don't have to spend my hard-earned money on non-essential products feels as revolutionary as it is simple.