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One afternoon at my job two years ago, an notification hit on my mobile device: my paycheck had come through. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my usual when payday arrived: I opened every retail application on my device. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. Within the space of an hour, I had parted with £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely unused heavy blanket that never touched.

A few days later, I went online again and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but thought another wouldn't be a problem. Then I included light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn’t new behaviour. In reality, I’d been infamous for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

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

I was never entirely sure why I did this. Perhaps it was due to I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new outfits or anything to brighten up the home. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a hidden yearning for new and thrilling things. Or maybe, and almost certainly, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to capitalism’s demands.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I decided to try something new. Before buying anything, I’d put it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then decide on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it provided me space to reflect – an action I’d never taken. For the first time since adulthood, I began questioning: “Do I truly require this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the answer was no.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. By employing this system, I ceased acquiring goods that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once wanted to buy a trio of games, but after waiting before visiting the store, I understood I never actually engage with board games.

I also contemplated buy a single-use camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I remembered I had a smartphone, like most people, that has a perfectly adequate lens, and thus did not need to acquire a separate camera.

The Lasting Impact

It additionally means I am more discerning about the items I do buy, and I can finally review my financial records devoid of experiencing shame or embarrassment.

Of course, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into old patterns – it's human nature. The key change is that I can identify the warning signs sooner, particularly when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve come to understand ennui is a strong catalyst. It’s probably the biggest motivator of my impulsive expenditure.

Modern culture exploits this idleness and our desire for immediate satisfaction. That’s the reason, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before buying has felt strangely liberating. To be able to have 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.