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 someone still at university, so I proceeded with my usual when payday arrived: I launched every single retail application on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on clothes, home decor and a totally unused weighted blanket that I never used.
A few days later, I went online again and purchased a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I added LED strip lights and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn’t new behaviour. In reality, I’d been notorious for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.
Whenever I felt stressed, tired or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an unplanned shopping binge. My excuse was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and so on.
I was never entirely certain about the reason. Perhaps it was due to I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d go months without purchasing new clothes or anything to decorate the home. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a subconscious desire for novel and exciting things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just financially irresponsible and gave in easily to capitalism’s demands.
In the end, I opted to experiment with a novel idea. Before acquiring any item, I’d put it in my basket, wait 24 hours, then decide on whether to finalize the purchase. The best part of this method was that it provided me space to reflect – an action I’d never taken. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I truly require this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the response was no.
If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products sitting in my cart, I’d remove them and start fresh. By employing this system, I ceased acquiring things that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once wanted to purchasing a trio of games, but after waiting before going to the shop, I realised I never actually engage with board games.
I also wanted to buying a single-use camera for my first trip to the coast. After waiting I remembered I possessed a phone, similar to most people, that has a perfectly good camera, and thus did not need to buy a dedicated device.
It also signifies I am more discerning about the things I do purchase, and I can at last look at my bank statements without feeling shame or discomfort.
Of course, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into previous habits – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can recognise the warning signs early, especially when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful trigger. It’s perhaps the primary driver of my reckless expenditure.
Consumer culture preys on this boredom and our need for instant gratification. That’s the reason, looking back, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt unexpectedly freeing. Gaining control over my impulses and reaffirming that I don't have to expend my diligently earned money on non-essential goods feels as revolutionary as it is simple.