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One afternoon at my job a couple of years back, an alert popped up on my phone: my salary had been deposited. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I proceeded with my what I always did when payday arrived: I launched every shopping app 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 totally unused 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 LED strip lights and two pairs of shoes that didn't even fit me. 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 anxious, exhausted or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping spree. My justification was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and so on.

I was never completely certain why I did this. Perhaps it was because I grew up in a poor family, where we’d go months without purchasing new outfits or anything to brighten up the house. So any moment 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 capitalism’s consumerism.

A Revolutionary Approach

In the end, I decided to try something new. Before buying anything, I’d put it in my basket, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to check out. The greatest advantage of this technique was that it gave me time to think – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion since I turned 18, I started asking myself: “Do I truly need this? Can I afford it?” Most of the time, the answer was negative.

If I accessed my shopping apps and found products lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. Using this method, I ceased buying things that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once considered buy a trio of games, but after a waiting period before visiting the shop, I realised I never actually play tabletop games.

I also contemplated buying a single-use camera for my first trip to Croatia. After pausing I remembered I had a phone, like everybody else, that has a perfectly adequate lens, and therefore had no requirement to buy a separate camera.

The Enduring Benefits

It additionally means I am more selective about the items I do buy, and I can at last look at my financial records devoid of feeling guilt or embarrassment.

Naturally, there have been times I’ve slipped back into old patterns – it’s only natural. The difference now is that I can recognise the signs sooner, particularly when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised ennui is a powerful catalyst. It’s perhaps the biggest driver of my reckless expenditure.

Consumer culture exploits this idleness and our need for instant satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before buying has felt unexpectedly liberating. To be able to have command over my urges and reaffirming that I don’t need to expend my hard-earned money on unnecessary products feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.