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One day at work a couple of years back, an alert popped up on my mobile device: my salary had been deposited. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my usual payday ritual: I opened every single retail application on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. Within the space of an hour, I had spent £90 on clothes, home decor and a totally useless weighted blanket that I never used.

A short while after, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought 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 stressed, exhausted or uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it always ended in an impulsive shopping spree. My excuse was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never completely certain about the reason. Maybe it was because my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without buying new outfits or anything to decorate the house. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious desire for new and exciting things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in easily to capitalism’s consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I opted to experiment with something new. Before buying 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 provided me time to think – an action I’d never taken. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I actually need this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the answer was no.

If I opened my shopping apps and found items lingering in my basket, I’d clear them out and begin anew. By employing this system, I stopped buying goods that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once wanted to buy a trio of games, but after a waiting period before visiting the shop, I realised I never actually play tabletop games.

I also wanted to buying a single-use camera for my first holiday to the coast. After waiting I recalled I had a smartphone, like everybody else, that has a perfectly good lens, and therefore had no requirement to acquire a dedicated device.

The Enduring Benefits

It additionally means I am more selective about the items I do purchase, and I can at last review my bank statements devoid of experiencing guilt or discomfort.

Naturally, there have been times I’ve relapsed into old patterns – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can identify the signs early, especially when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful catalyst. It’s probably the primary motivator of my reckless expenditure.

Modern culture preys on this boredom and our desire for instant gratification. That’s the reason, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before buying has felt unexpectedly freeing. Gaining command over my impulses and reaffirming that I don’t need to expend my hard-earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is straightforward.