One afternoon at my job two years ago, an notification hit on my phone: my salary had been deposited. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I proceeded with my usual payday ritual: I launched every single 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 apparel, home decor and a completely unused heavy blanket that never touched.
A short while after, I returned to the internet and purchased a hairdryer. I already had one, but reasoned another couldn't hurt. Then I included light strips and two pairs of 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 anxious, tired or uninterested, I would doomscroll until it inevitably culminated in an impulsive shopping spree. My justification was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.
I was never completely certain about the reason. Perhaps it was due to I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without buying new clothes or anything to brighten up the house. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a hidden desire for novel and thrilling things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to capitalism’s demands.
The Game-Changing Strategy
In the end, I opted to experiment with a novel idea. Before acquiring any item, I’d put it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this method was that it provided me time to think – an action I’d never taken. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I began questioning: “Do I truly require this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the response was no.
If I opened Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products lingering in my basket, I’d clear them out and begin anew. Using this method, I ceased acquiring goods that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once wanted to buy a trio of games, but after waiting before visiting the store, I understood I never actually engage with board games.
I also wanted to buying a disposable film camera for my first holiday to the coast. After waiting I remembered I possessed a smartphone, similar to everybody else, that has a perfectly good camera, and therefore had no requirement to buy a dedicated camera.
The Enduring Benefits
It also means I am more selective about the items I do purchase, and I can at last look at my bank statements without feeling shame or embarrassment.
Of course, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into previous habits – it's human nature. The difference now is that I can recognise the signs sooner, especially when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve come to understand boredom is a powerful catalyst. It’s probably the biggest motivator of my impulsive spending.
Consumer culture exploits this idleness and our need for immediate gratification. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to halt before purchasing has felt strangely liberating. Gaining control over my urges and reaffirming that I don't have to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is straightforward.
