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One day at work a couple of years back, an alert popped up on my phone: my salary had been deposited. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my usual when payday arrived: I launched every single retail application on my device. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. Within the space of an hour, I had parted with £90 on clothes, home decor and a completely useless 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 couldn't hurt. Then I added light strips and two shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn’t new behaviour. In fact, I’d been infamous for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt stressed, tired or bored, I would doomscroll until it inevitably ended in an impulsive shopping binge. My excuse was constantly: “It's only £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never entirely sure why I did this. Perhaps it was because I grew up in a poor family, where we’d go months without purchasing new clothes or anything to brighten up the home. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a hidden yearning for new and thrilling things. Or possibly, 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. Prior to acquiring anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then make a choice whether to finalize the purchase. The best part of this method was that it gave me space to think – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion 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 negative.

If I opened my shopping apps and discovered items lingering in my basket, I’d clear them out and begin anew. By employing this method, I ceased buying goods that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once wanted to purchasing three board games, but after waiting before going to the shop, I understood I never actually engage with board games.

I also contemplated buy a single-use camera for my first holiday to the coast. After waiting I recalled I possessed a smartphone, like everybody else, that features a perfectly good camera, and therefore did not need to buy a separate camera.

The Enduring Benefits

It additionally means I am more discerning about the things I do buy, and I can finally look at my bank statements without feeling shame or discomfort.

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into previous habits – it's human nature. The difference now is that I can recognise the warning signs early, particularly when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a strong catalyst. It’s perhaps the primary motivator of my reckless spending.

Modern culture preys on this boredom and our desire for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to halt before purchasing has felt strangely liberating. Gaining control over my impulses and remind myself that I don't have to spend my diligently earned money on unnecessary products feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.