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One afternoon at my job two years ago, an notification hit on my phone: my salary had come through. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my what I always did when payday arrived: I launched every single retail application on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on clothes, home decor and a completely useless weighted blanket that never touched.

A few days later, I returned to the internet and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but reasoned an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I included light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, I’d been infamous for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt anxious, tired or bored, I would doomscroll until it inevitably culminated in an impulsive shopping binge. My excuse was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never entirely certain about the reason. Maybe it was because I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new clothes or anything to decorate the house. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a subconscious desire for new and thrilling things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and gave in easily to capitalism’s consumerism.

The Game-Changing Strategy

In the end, I decided to experiment with something new. Before acquiring anything, I’d place it in my basket, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it gave me time to reflect – something I’d never done before. For the first time since adulthood, I started asking myself: “Do I actually require this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the answer was negative.

If I opened my shopping apps and found items lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. Using this method, I ceased acquiring goods that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once wanted to purchasing a trio of games, but after a waiting period before going to the shop, 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 pausing I remembered I had a smartphone, similar to most people, that features a perfectly adequate camera, and thus had no requirement to acquire a dedicated camera.

The Enduring Benefits

It also signifies I am more selective about the items I do purchase, and I can at last review my bank statements devoid of feeling shame or discomfort.

Of course, there have been times I’ve relapsed into old patterns – it's human nature. The key change is that I can recognise the signs early, particularly when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful catalyst. It’s probably the primary motivator of my impulsive expenditure.

Modern culture preys on this idleness and our need for immediate gratification. That’s why, looking back, forcing myself to halt before purchasing has felt strangely freeing. Gaining command over my impulses and reaffirming that I don’t need to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is straightforward.