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One day at work a couple of years back, an notification hit on my mobile device: my salary had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I did my usual payday ritual: I launched every single shopping app on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on clothes, home decor and a completely useless weighted blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I went online again and purchased a blow dryer. I already owned one, but reasoned an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I added light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In reality, I’d been notorious for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt stressed, exhausted or bored, I would doomscroll until it always culminated in an unplanned shopping spree. My excuse was constantly: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never completely certain about the reason. Maybe it was due to my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new outfits or anything to brighten up the house. So any time I had extra money, there was always a hidden yearning for novel and thrilling things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed easily to the lure of consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I opted to experiment with something new. Prior to acquiring anything, 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 time to think – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since adulthood, I started asking myself: “Do I actually require this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the response was negative.

If I opened my shopping apps and found items lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. By employing this method, I stopped buying goods that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once considered buy a trio of games, but after a waiting period before visiting the store, I realised I never actually engage with board games.

I also wanted to buying a disposable film camera for my first trip to the coast. After pausing I remembered I possessed a phone, like most people, that has a perfectly good camera, and therefore had no requirement to buy a separate camera.

The Enduring Benefits

It also means I am more discerning about the things I do purchase, and I can finally review my bank statements devoid of experiencing shame or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been times I’ve relapsed into old habits – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can identify the warning signs early, particularly when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve come to understand ennui is a powerful catalyst. It’s perhaps the primary motivator of my reckless expenditure.

Consumer culture exploits this idleness and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s the reason, in hindsight, compelling myself to halt before purchasing has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have command over my impulses and reaffirming that I don't have to spend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as revolutionary as it is simple.