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One day at work two years ago, 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 proceeded with my what I always did payday ritual: I opened every shopping app on my device. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on clothes, home decor and a totally useless weighted blanket that I never used.

A few days later, I returned to the internet and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I included 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 anxious, exhausted or bored, I would doomscroll until it always ended in an impulsive shopping spree. My excuse was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never completely certain why I did this. Maybe it was due to I grew up in a poor family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new outfits or anything to decorate the home. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious desire for novel and thrilling things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and succumbed readily to capitalism’s consumerism.

The Game-Changing Strategy

Eventually, I opted to experiment with something new. Before acquiring any item, I’d place it in my basket, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice whether to check out. The best part of this method was that it provided me space to think – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I actually need 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 basket, I’d remove them and begin anew. By employing this system, I ceased acquiring goods that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once wanted to buy three board games, but after a waiting period before going to the store, I understood I never actually engage with board games.

I also wanted to buying a single-use camera for my first trip to Croatia. After pausing I recalled I possessed a smartphone, similar to most people, that has a perfectly adequate camera, and thus did not need to buy a dedicated device.

The Enduring Benefits

It also means I am more selective about the items I do purchase, and I can at last look at my bank statements devoid of experiencing guilt or embarrassment.

Of course, there have been times I’ve slipped back into old patterns – it's human nature. The key change is that I can identify the signs early, particularly when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful catalyst. It’s perhaps the biggest driver of my reckless spending.

Consumer culture preys on this boredom 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 need to spend my hard-earned money on non-essential goods feels as revolutionary as it is simple.