One day at work two years ago, an alert popped up on my mobile device: my salary had been deposited. It was a decent sum for a student, so I proceeded with my what I always did when payday arrived: I launched every single shopping app on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on clothes, home decor and a totally useless weighted blanket that never touched.
A few days later, I returned to the internet and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but reasoned another couldn't hurt. Then I included 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 ever since I could afford to buy my own things.
Whenever I felt stressed, exhausted or uninterested, I would doomscroll until it always ended in an impulsive shopping spree. My justification was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and so on.
I was never completely sure why I did this. Perhaps it was due to I grew up in a poor family, where we’d go months without buying new outfits or anything to brighten up the home. So any time I had extra money, there was always a subconscious yearning for novel and thrilling things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to capitalism’s demands.
The Game-Changing Strategy
Eventually, I opted to try something new. Before buying anything, I’d put it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then decide whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this method was that it gave me space to reflect – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since adulthood, I began questioning: “Do I actually require this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the answer was negative.
If I opened Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products sitting in my basket, I’d remove them and begin anew. By employing this system, I stopped buying goods that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once considered buy three board games, but after a waiting period before visiting the store, I understood I never actually engage with tabletop games.
I also contemplated buy a disposable film camera for my first trip to Croatia. After pausing I recalled I possessed a phone, like most people, that has a perfectly adequate camera, and thus had no requirement to buy a dedicated device.
The Enduring Benefits
It also means I am more selective about the things I do purchase, and I can at last review my financial records without feeling guilt 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 warning signs early, particularly when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful catalyst. It’s perhaps the biggest driver of my reckless expenditure.
Modern culture exploits this boredom and our desire for immediate gratification. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to halt before buying has felt strangely liberating. To be able to have command over my impulses and remind myself that I don’t need to spend my diligently earned money on non-essential goods feels as radical as it is simple.
