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One afternoon at my job a couple of years back, an notification hit on my mobile device: my paycheck had come through. It was a fair amount for a student, so I proceeded with my what I always did payday ritual: I launched every retail application on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. Within the space of an hour, I had spent £90 on clothes, decorative items and a totally useless heavy blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I went online again and purchased a hairdryer. I already had one, but reasoned another couldn't hurt. Then I added LED strip lights and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, 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 mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping binge. My excuse was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never completely sure about the reason. Maybe it was due to my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new clothes or anything to decorate the house. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious yearning for novel and thrilling things. Or maybe, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in readily to capitalism’s demands.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I decided to experiment with something new. Before buying anything, I’d place it in my basket, wait 24 hours, then decide on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it gave me time to reflect – something I’d never taken. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I began asking myself: “Do I truly require this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the answer was no.

If I opened Amazon, Depop or Zara and found products sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. Using this method, I ceased buying goods that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once considered buy three board games, but after a waiting period before visiting the store, I realised I never actually play board games.

I also contemplated buy a single-use camera for my first holiday to the coast. 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 device.

The Lasting Impact

It also signifies I am more discerning about the items I do buy, and I can finally review my financial records without experiencing shame or embarrassment.

Of course, there have been times I’ve relapsed into old patterns – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can recognise the warning signs early, particularly when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a strong catalyst. It’s probably the primary driver of my impulsive spending.

Consumer culture exploits this idleness and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s the reason, looking back, compelling myself to pause before purchasing has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have control over my impulses and remind myself that I don't have to spend my diligently earned money on non-essential products feels as revolutionary as it is simple.