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One afternoon at my job two years ago, an alert popped up on my mobile device: my salary had come through. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my what I always did payday ritual: I launched every shopping app on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on apparel, decorative items and a totally useless weighted blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I went online again and bought a blow dryer. I already owned one, but reasoned an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I added light strips and two pairs of shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn't a new pattern. In reality, I’d been notorious 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 justification was always: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never entirely sure about the reason. 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 home. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious yearning for novel and exciting things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and gave in readily to the lure of consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

Eventually, I decided to experiment with a novel idea. Before acquiring anything, I’d put it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then make a choice whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it gave me space to think – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started questioning: “Do I truly need this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the answer was negative.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered items lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. By employing this system, I ceased buying things that I knew deep down I would never use. I once wanted to buy a trio of games, but after waiting before going to the shop, I realised I never actually play tabletop games.

I also contemplated buy a disposable film camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After waiting I remembered I had a phone, similar to most people, that has a perfectly adequate lens, and therefore did not need to buy a dedicated camera.

The Enduring Benefits

It also signifies I am more selective about the items I do purchase, and I can finally look at my financial records without feeling guilt or discomfort.

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 early, especially when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve come to understand ennui is a powerful trigger. It’s probably the primary driver of my impulsive expenditure.

Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, looking back, forcing myself to pause before purchasing has felt strangely freeing. Gaining command over my impulses and remind myself that I don't have to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.