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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 proceeded with my usual payday ritual: I launched every single retail application on my device. From Amazon to Zara, you name it. Within the space of an hour, I had spent £90 on clothes, decorative items and a totally useless weighted blanket that never touched.

A short while after, I returned to the internet and purchased a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought an extra one wouldn't be a problem. Then I added LED strip lights and two shoes that didn't even fit me. This wasn't a new pattern. In reality, I’d been notorious for it since I started earning.

Whenever I felt stressed, tired or uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an unplanned shopping spree. My excuse was constantly: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.

I was never completely sure about the reason. Maybe it was because my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without buying new clothes or anything to decorate the home. So any time I had extra money, there was always a subconscious yearning for new and exciting things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just bad with money and gave in easily to capitalism’s demands.

The Game-Changing Strategy

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 decide whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it gave me space to reflect – an action I’d never taken. For the first time since I turned 18, I began asking myself: “Do I actually require this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the response was negative.

If I accessed Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. Using this method, I stopped buying goods that I intuitively knew I would never utilize. I once wanted to purchasing a trio of games, but after waiting before going to the store, I understood I never actually play board games.

I also wanted to buy a disposable film camera for my first holiday to the coast. After pausing I remembered I possessed a phone, like everybody else, that has a perfectly good camera, and therefore did not need to buy a dedicated device.

The Enduring Benefits

It also signifies I am more discerning about the items I do buy, and I can at last review my financial records without experiencing guilt or discomfort.

Of course, there have been times I’ve relapsed into old habits – it's human nature. The difference now is that I can recognise the signs sooner, especially when I’m rushing into a purchase. I’ve realised ennui is a strong catalyst. It’s perhaps the biggest motivator of my reckless expenditure.

Modern culture exploits this boredom and our desire for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before purchasing has felt unexpectedly freeing. Gaining command over my impulses and remind myself that I don’t need to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary products feels as radical as it is straightforward.