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One day at work a couple of years back, an notification hit on my phone: my paycheck had come through. It was a decent sum for a student, so I did my usual payday ritual: I launched every retail application on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, the list was endless. Within the space of an hour, I had parted with £90 on clothes, decorative items and a completely useless heavy blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I went online again and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but reasoned another wouldn't be a problem. Then I added LED strip lights and two pairs of shoes that weren’t even my size. 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 uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it inevitably culminated in an impulsive shopping spree. My excuse was always: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never completely certain why I did this. Perhaps it was due to I grew up in a poor family, where we’d experience months without buying new outfits or anything to brighten up the house. So any time I had extra money, there was always a subconscious desire for new and exciting things. Or maybe, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and succumbed readily to capitalism’s consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I decided to experiment with a novel idea. Prior to buying anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to finalize the purchase. The best part of this method was that it gave me time to reflect – an action I’d never done before. For the first time since adulthood, I started questioning: “Do I actually need this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the answer was no.

If I opened my shopping apps and found items lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. By employing this method, I stopped buying goods that I knew deep down I would never use. I once considered purchasing three board games, but after waiting before going to the store, I realised I never actually engage with tabletop games.

I also wanted to buy a single-use camera for my first trip to Croatia. After waiting I recalled I had a phone, like everybody else, that features a perfectly good lens, and thus did not need to buy a separate device.

The Enduring Benefits

It also means I am more selective about the things I do purchase, and I can finally look at my financial records devoid of experiencing shame or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into previous habits – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can recognise the warning signs sooner, particularly when I’m hastening into a purchase. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful catalyst. It’s probably the primary motivator of my impulsive expenditure.

Modern culture exploits this boredom and our desire for instant satisfaction. That’s the reason, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before buying has felt strangely freeing. Gaining command over my impulses and reaffirming that I don't have to spend my hard-earned money on unnecessary products feels as revolutionary as it is simple.