One day at work a couple of years back, an notification hit on my phone: my paycheck had come through. It was a fair amount for a someone still at university, so I did my what I always did when payday arrived: I opened every retail application on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely unused heavy blanket that never touched.
A short while after, I went online again and bought a hairdryer. I already owned one, but thought another wouldn't be a problem. Then I added light strips and two shoes that weren’t even my size. This wasn’t new behaviour. In fact, I’d been infamous for it ever since I could afford to buy my own things.
Whenever I felt stressed, exhausted or uninterested, I would doomscroll until it inevitably ended in an impulsive shopping binge. My excuse was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 turned into £10, then £20, and continued.
I was never completely certain why I did this. Maybe it was because I grew up in a low-income family, where we’d go months without buying new clothes or anything to decorate the house. So any moment I had some disposable income, there was always a hidden desire for novel and thrilling things. Or possibly, and definitely more likely, I was just bad with money and gave in readily to the lure of demands.
In the end, I opted to try a novel idea. Prior to acquiring any item, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then decide on whether to check out. The best part of this method 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 truly require this? Is it within my budget?” More often than not, the response was no.
If I opened Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products lingering in my cart, I’d clear them out and begin anew. By employing this method, I stopped buying things that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once wanted to purchasing three board games, but after a waiting period before going to the store, I understood I never actually engage with tabletop games.
I also wanted to buy a disposable film camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After waiting I recalled I had a smartphone, like everybody else, that features a perfectly adequate lens, and thus had no requirement to acquire a separate device.
It also means I am more selective about the things I do purchase, and I can at last look at my financial records devoid of experiencing shame or discomfort.
Of course, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into previous patterns – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can recognise the warning signs sooner, especially when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised boredom is a powerful trigger. It’s perhaps the primary motivator of my reckless expenditure.
Consumer culture preys on this boredom and our need for immediate satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to halt before purchasing has felt unexpectedly liberating. Gaining command over my urges and remind myself that I don’t need to expend my diligently earned money on non-essential goods feels as revolutionary as it is simple.
Agile coach and software developer with over a decade of experience in transforming teams and delivering innovative solutions.