🔗 Share this article

One afternoon at my job two years ago, an notification hit on my phone: my salary had come through. It was a decent sum for a student, so I proceeded with my usual payday ritual: I opened 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 totally useless weighted blanket that never touched.

A few days later, I returned to the internet and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but reasoned another wouldn't be a problem. Then I added light strips and two shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn’t new behaviour. In reality, I’d been infamous for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt anxious, tired or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping spree. My excuse was always: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never entirely certain why I did this. Perhaps it was because my upbringing in a poor family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new outfits or anything to decorate the house. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a hidden yearning for novel and thrilling things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and gave in readily to capitalism’s demands.

The Game-Changing Strategy

Eventually, I decided to experiment with something new. Prior to acquiring anything, I’d put it in my basket, delay for 24 hours, then decide whether to check out. The best part of this technique was that it gave me space to reflect – something I’d never done before. For the first time since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I truly require this? Is it within my budget?” Most of the time, the response was no.

If I opened Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered items lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. By employing this method, I stopped acquiring things that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once wanted to purchasing three board games, but after a waiting period before visiting the shop, I understood I never actually play board games.

I also contemplated buy a disposable film camera for my first trip to the coast. After pausing I recalled I had a smartphone, similar to everybody else, that has a perfectly adequate camera, and therefore did not need to acquire a dedicated camera.

The Enduring Benefits

It also means I am more discerning about the things I do purchase, and I can finally review my bank statements without experiencing shame or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into previous patterns – it's human nature. The difference now is that I can recognise the signs sooner, particularly when I’m hastening into a purchase. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful trigger. It’s probably the primary motivator of my reckless expenditure.

Modern culture preys on this boredom and our desire for instant satisfaction. That’s the reason, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before buying has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have command over my urges and reaffirming that I don't have to expend my hard-earned money on non-essential goods feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.