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One afternoon at my job a couple of years back, an notification hit on my mobile device: my salary had come through. It was a decent sum for a student, so I proceeded with my what I always did when payday arrived: I launched every retail application on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on apparel, decorative items and a completely unused heavy blanket that never touched.

A few days later, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I included light strips and two pairs of shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, I’d been notorious for it since I started earning.

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

I was never completely certain about the reason. Perhaps it was because my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d go months without purchasing new clothes or anything to brighten up the house. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious yearning for new and exciting things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and gave in readily to capitalism’s consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I decided to experiment with something new. Prior to buying anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it provided me time to reflect – something I’d never done before. For the first occasion since adulthood, I began questioning: “Do I actually need this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the answer was negative.

If I accessed my shopping apps and discovered products lingering in my basket, I’d remove them and begin anew. Using this method, I stopped buying things that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once considered buy a trio of games, but after a waiting period before visiting the store, I understood I never actually engage with tabletop games.

I also contemplated buying a single-use camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I recalled I possessed a phone, like everybody else, that features a perfectly adequate camera, and thus did not need to acquire a dedicated device.

The Lasting Impact

It also means I am more selective about the things I do purchase, and I can at last review my financial records without experiencing guilt or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into previous habits – it's human nature. The key change is that I can identify the signs sooner, especially when I’m rushing into a purchase. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful trigger. It’s probably the biggest motivator of my impulsive spending.

Modern culture exploits this idleness and our need for instant gratification. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before buying has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have control over my urges and reaffirming that I don't have to spend my hard-earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is straightforward.