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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 decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my usual when payday arrived: I opened every retail application on my phone. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely unused weighted blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already had one, but reasoned an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I added LED strip lights and two pairs of shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn't a new pattern. In fact, I’d been infamous for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.

Whenever I felt stressed, tired or uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it always ended in an impulsive shopping spree. My excuse was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never entirely certain about the reason. Maybe it was because my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without buying new outfits or anything to decorate the home. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a hidden desire for novel and thrilling things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and gave in readily to capitalism’s consumerism.

The Game-Changing Strategy

In the end, I opted to experiment with something new. Before acquiring anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The best part of this technique was that it gave me time to think – something I’d never done before. For the first time since adulthood, I began asking myself: “Do I actually require this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the response was no.

If I opened my shopping apps and found products lingering in my basket, I’d clear them out and start fresh. By employing this system, I ceased buying goods that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once wanted to purchasing a trio of games, but after a waiting period before going to the store, I realised I never actually play board games.

I also contemplated buying a single-use camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I recalled I had a smartphone, similar to everybody else, that features a perfectly adequate camera, and therefore did not need to buy a dedicated camera.

The Enduring Benefits

It also signifies I am more discerning about the items I do purchase, and I can finally review my financial records devoid of experiencing shame or discomfort.

Of course, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into previous habits – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can recognise the warning signs sooner, particularly when I’m hastening into a purchase. I’ve realised ennui is a strong trigger. It’s probably the primary driver of my reckless spending.

Modern culture preys on this boredom and our need for instant gratification. That’s why, looking back, compelling myself to pause before purchasing has felt strangely liberating. Gaining command over my urges and reaffirming that I don't have to expend my hard-earned money on non-essential goods feels as radical as it is simple.