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One day at work two years ago, 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 payday ritual: I launched every shopping app on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. Within the space of an hour, I had spent £90 on clothes, decorative items and a totally useless weighted blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I went online again and bought a blow dryer. I already had one, but reasoned an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I added LED strip lights and two shoes that didn't even fit me. 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 inevitably ended in an impulsive shopping binge. My justification was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never entirely certain about the reason. Perhaps it was because my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d go months without buying new clothes or anything to decorate the house. So any time I had extra money, there was always a subconscious yearning for novel and exciting things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and gave in easily to capitalism’s consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I decided to try a novel idea. Before buying anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this method was that it provided me time to reflect – something I’d never done before. For the first time since I turned 18, I began questioning: “Do I truly need this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the answer was no.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and found items sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. Using this system, I stopped acquiring things that I knew deep down I would never use. I once wanted to purchasing three board games, but after a waiting period before visiting the store, I understood I never actually play tabletop games.

I also contemplated buying a disposable film camera for my first trip to the coast. After pausing I recalled I possessed a smartphone, similar to most people, that has a perfectly good camera, and therefore had no requirement to buy a dedicated camera.

The Lasting Impact

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

Of course, there have been times I’ve relapsed into previous patterns – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can recognise the signs sooner, especially when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a strong catalyst. It’s probably the primary motivator of my impulsive expenditure.

Modern culture exploits this idleness and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before buying has felt unexpectedly freeing. To be able to have control over my impulses and remind myself that I don't have to spend my diligently earned money on non-essential goods feels as revolutionary as it is simple.