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One day at work two years ago, an notification hit on my mobile device: my paycheck had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a student, so I did my usual payday ritual: I opened every single shopping app on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. Within the space of an hour, I had parted with £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely useless heavy blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought another wouldn't be a problem. Then I included light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. 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 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 completely sure why I did this. Maybe it was because I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d go months without buying new clothes or anything to decorate the house. So any time I had extra money, there was always a hidden desire for novel and thrilling things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and gave in readily to capitalism’s consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I opted to try something new. Before acquiring any item, I’d put it in my basket, wait 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this method was that it provided me time to reflect – something I’d never taken. For the first time since adulthood, I began asking myself: “Do I actually need this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the response was negative.

If I opened Amazon, Depop or Zara and found products sitting in my basket, I’d remove them and begin anew. By employing this method, I stopped buying things that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once considered purchasing a trio of games, but after waiting before visiting the shop, I realised I never actually play tabletop games.

I also contemplated buying a disposable film camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I recalled I possessed a smartphone, similar to everybody else, that has a perfectly good lens, and thus did not need to buy a dedicated device.

The Lasting Impact

It additionally signifies I am more discerning about the things I do buy, and I can at last look at my bank statements devoid of experiencing shame or discomfort.

Of course, there have been times 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 strong trigger. It’s perhaps the primary driver of my reckless spending.

Consumer culture exploits this idleness and our desire for instant satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before purchasing has felt unexpectedly liberating. To be able to have command over my impulses and reaffirming that I don't have to expend my hard-earned money on non-essential products feels as radical as it is straightforward.