One day at work a couple of years back, an notification hit on my phone: my salary had come through. 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 single shopping app on my device. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. Within the space of an hour, I had parted with ÂŁ90 on clothes, decorative items and a completely unused heavy blanket that I never used.
A few days later, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but reasoned another couldn't hurt. Then I included LED strip lights and two pairs of shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In reality, I’d been infamous for it since I started earning.
Whenever I felt anxious, tired or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping binge. My justification was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.
I was never entirely sure why I did this. Perhaps 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 house. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious desire for new and thrilling things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to the lure of consumerism.
In the end, I decided to experiment with a novel idea. Before acquiring any item, I’d put it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this method was that it gave me time to reflect – something I’d never taken. For the first time since adulthood, I started asking myself: “Do I truly need this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the answer was no.
If I opened my shopping apps and discovered products sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. Using this system, I ceased acquiring things that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once considered buy a trio of games, but after a waiting period before going to the shop, I understood I never actually engage with tabletop games.
I also wanted to buying a disposable film camera for my first trip to Croatia. After waiting I recalled I had a phone, similar to everybody else, that has a perfectly adequate lens, and therefore had no requirement to buy a separate camera.
It additionally signifies I am more selective about the items I do buy, and I can at last look at my bank statements without experiencing shame or discomfort.
Of course, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into previous habits – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can identify the signs sooner, especially when I’m hastening into a purchase. I’ve realised boredom is a strong trigger. It’s probably the primary driver of my reckless expenditure.
Modern culture preys on this idleness and our desire for immediate gratification. That’s why, looking back, forcing myself to pause before buying has felt unexpectedly liberating. Gaining command over my impulses and reaffirming that I don’t need to spend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is simple.
Urban enthusiast and writer passionate about sustainable city living and cultural exploration.