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One day at work a couple of years back, an alert popped up on my mobile device: my paycheck had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I did my what I always did payday ritual: I opened every single retail application on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely useless heavy blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I returned to the internet and bought a blow dryer. I already owned one, but reasoned an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I added LED strip lights and two shoes that didn't even fit me. 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 anxious, exhausted or uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it inevitably ended in an impulsive shopping spree. My justification was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never entirely certain why I did this. Perhaps it was due to I grew up in a poor family, where we’d experience months without buying new outfits or anything to decorate the home. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a hidden yearning for new and exciting things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to capitalism’s consumerism.

The Game-Changing Strategy

Eventually, I decided to experiment with a novel idea. Before buying any item, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then decide whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it provided me time to reflect – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I actually need this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the response was negative.

If I opened my shopping apps and found products sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. By employing this method, I stopped acquiring things that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once considered purchasing three board games, but after waiting before visiting the store, I understood I never actually play board games.

I also wanted to buy a disposable film camera for my first holiday to the coast. After waiting I remembered I had a smartphone, like most people, that features a perfectly adequate lens, and thus had no requirement to buy a dedicated camera.

The Enduring Benefits

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

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into previous habits – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can identify the warning signs early, especially when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful catalyst. It’s perhaps the primary driver of my reckless spending.

Modern culture exploits this idleness and our need for instant gratification. That’s why, looking back, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have command over my urges and reaffirming that I don’t need to spend my hard-earned money on non-essential goods feels as radical as it is straightforward.