One day at work two years ago, an alert popped up on my mobile device: my salary had come through. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my what I always did payday ritual: I opened every shopping app on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on clothes, decorative items and a completely useless heavy blanket that I never used.
A short while after, I returned to the internet and bought a blow dryer. I already owned one, but thought an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I included light strips and two pairs of shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn’t new behaviour. In reality, I’d been infamous for it since I started earning.
Whenever I felt anxious, exhausted or bored, I would doomscroll until it always ended in an impulsive 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 poor family, where we’d go months without purchasing new clothes 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 possibly, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and succumbed readily to the lure of consumerism.
In the end, I opted to experiment with something new. Prior to buying any item, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this method was that it provided me space to reflect – an action I’d never taken. For the first occasion since adulthood, I began questioning: “Do I actually require this? Can I afford it?” More often than not, the answer was negative.
If I opened my shopping apps and discovered items sitting in my basket, I’d remove them and start fresh. By employing this system, I ceased buying things that I knew deep down I would never utilize. I once wanted to purchasing three board games, but after waiting before visiting the shop, I realised I never actually engage with tabletop games.
I also contemplated buying a single-use camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After pausing I remembered I possessed a phone, like everybody else, that has a perfectly good lens, and therefore did not need to acquire a separate camera.
It additionally means I am more selective about the items I do buy, and I can finally look at my bank statements devoid of experiencing guilt or embarrassment.
Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve slipped back into previous patterns – it's human nature. The key change is that I can identify the signs early, particularly when I’m rushing into a purchase. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful trigger. It’s probably the biggest driver of my impulsive expenditure.
Modern culture exploits this idleness and our desire for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before buying has felt unexpectedly freeing. Gaining command over my impulses and remind myself that I don’t need to expend my hard-earned money on unnecessary goods feels as radical as it is straightforward.
Elara is a passionate gamer and writer, sharing insights and reviews on the latest video games and tech.