One day at work a couple of years back, an alert popped up on my phone: my salary had come through. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I did my usual payday ritual: I opened every single retail application on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with ÂŁ90 on apparel, decorative items and a completely unused heavy blanket that I never used.
A short while after, I went online again and bought a blow dryer. I already had one, but thought an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I included light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, I’d been notorious for it since I started earning.
Whenever I felt stressed, exhausted or uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping binge. My justification was constantly: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and so on.
I was never completely certain why I did this. Maybe it was due to my upbringing in a poor family, where we’d go months without purchasing new clothes or anything to decorate the home. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a hidden desire for novel and thrilling things. Or maybe, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in easily to capitalism’s consumerism.
In the end, I decided to try a novel idea. Prior to acquiring any item, I’d place it in my basket, wait 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it provided me space to reflect – something I’d never done before. For the first time since adulthood, I began asking myself: “Do I truly require this? Is it within my budget?” Most of the time, the answer was negative.
If I opened my shopping apps and discovered products sitting in my basket, I’d clear them out and begin anew. Using this system, I stopped buying things that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once wanted to purchasing a trio of games, but after a waiting period before going to the store, I realised I never actually engage with board games.
I also contemplated buy a disposable film camera for my first trip to Croatia. After pausing I remembered I had a smartphone, similar to most people, that features a perfectly adequate lens, and thus did not need to acquire a separate device.
It also signifies I am more discerning about the things I do buy, and I can finally review my bank statements devoid of feeling shame or discomfort.
Of course, there have been times I’ve relapsed into previous patterns – it's human nature. The key change is that I can recognise the signs sooner, especially when I’m hastening into a purchase. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful catalyst. It’s perhaps the biggest driver of my impulsive spending.
Modern culture preys on this boredom and our need for instant satisfaction. That’s why, looking back, forcing myself to pause before purchasing has felt strangely liberating. To be able to have control over my impulses and remind myself that I don’t need to spend my hard-earned money on unnecessary goods feels as revolutionary as it is simple.
Lena is a passionate gamer and tech writer, specializing in indie games and hardware reviews, with years of industry experience.