🔗 Share this article

One afternoon at my job two years ago, an notification hit on my phone: my paycheck had come through. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I proceeded with my what I always did payday ritual: I opened every single shopping app on my phone. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on clothes, decorative items and a completely unused weighted blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I went online again and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but reasoned another couldn't hurt. Then I added light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn’t new behaviour. In reality, I’d been infamous 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: “It's only £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never completely certain about the reason. Maybe it was because my upbringing in a poor family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new clothes or anything to brighten up the home. So any time I had extra money, there was always a subconscious desire for novel and exciting things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and succumbed easily to the lure of demands.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I opted to try something new. Before buying any item, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then decide on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this method was that it provided me space to think – an action I’d never taken. 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 accessed my shopping apps and found items sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. Using this system, I ceased buying things that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once considered buy a trio of games, but after waiting before visiting the store, I realised I never actually play board games.

I also contemplated buying a disposable film camera for my first holiday to the coast. After waiting I recalled I possessed a phone, similar to everybody else, that has a perfectly adequate camera, and therefore did not need to acquire a dedicated camera.

The Lasting Impact

It also signifies I am more selective about the things I do purchase, and I can at last review my bank statements without feeling shame or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been times I’ve relapsed into old habits – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can identify the signs early, particularly when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful catalyst. It’s perhaps the biggest driver of my impulsive spending.

Modern culture exploits this boredom and our desire for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before purchasing has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have command over my impulses and remind myself that I don’t need to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is simple.