One afternoon at my job a couple of years back, an notification hit on my phone: my salary had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I did my usual payday ritual: I opened every shopping app on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, the list was endless. Within the space of an hour, I had parted with £90 on clothes, home decor and a completely useless weighted blanket that I never used.
A short while after, I went online again and purchased a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought another wouldn't be a problem. Then I added light strips and two pairs of shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn’t new behaviour. In fact, I’d been notorious for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.
Whenever I felt anxious, tired or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it inevitably culminated in an unplanned shopping binge. My justification was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.
I was never completely sure about the reason. Perhaps it was because I grew up in a poor family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new clothes or anything to decorate the home. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious yearning for novel and exciting things. Or maybe, and definitely more likely, I was just financially irresponsible and gave in readily to capitalism’s consumerism.
In the end, I decided to try a novel idea. Prior to acquiring anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then decide on whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it gave me space to think – something I’d never taken. For the first time since adulthood, I started asking myself: “Do I truly require this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the response was no.
If I opened my shopping apps and found products sitting in my basket, I’d clear them out and begin anew. Using this method, I ceased buying things that I knew deep down I would never use. I once wanted to purchasing a trio of games, but after waiting before going to the store, I realised I never actually engage with tabletop games.
I also wanted to buying a disposable film camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After waiting I remembered I had a smartphone, similar to everybody else, that has a perfectly adequate lens, and thus did not need to acquire a dedicated device.
It additionally signifies I am more selective about the items I do buy, and I can at last look at my financial records without experiencing shame or embarrassment.
Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into old patterns – it's human nature. The difference now is that I can recognise the signs sooner, especially when I’m rushing into a transaction. I’ve come to understand boredom is a strong catalyst. It’s perhaps the primary driver of my reckless spending.
Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our need for immediate gratification. That’s the reason, in hindsight, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt unexpectedly liberating. Gaining command over my urges and remind myself that I don't have to expend my hard-earned money on non-essential goods feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.
Tech enthusiast and gaming expert with over a decade of experience in PC hardware reviews and community building.