One afternoon at my job two years ago, an alert popped up 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 payday ritual: I launched every single retail application on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on apparel, home decor and a completely unused weighted blanket that never touched.
A few days later, I went online again and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but thought another wouldn't be a problem. Then I added light strips 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 stressed, tired or bored, I would mindlessly scroll until it inevitably ended in an unplanned shopping spree. My justification was always: “It's only £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.
I was never completely sure why I did this. Perhaps it was due to my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d go months without purchasing new clothes or anything to brighten up the house. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious desire for new and thrilling things. Or maybe, and almost certainly, I was just financially irresponsible and succumbed readily to capitalism’s demands.
Eventually, I decided to experiment with a novel idea. Before acquiring anything, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then make a choice whether to check out. The best part of this technique was that it gave me time to reflect – an action I’d never taken. For the first occasion since adulthood, I began asking myself: “Do I actually need this? Is it within my budget?” Most of the time, the answer was negative.
If I opened my shopping apps and found items sitting in my cart, I’d clear them out and start fresh. By employing this system, I ceased acquiring things that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once considered buy a trio of games, but after waiting before visiting the shop, I realised I never actually play tabletop games.
I also contemplated buy a single-use camera for my first holiday to Croatia. After waiting I remembered I possessed a phone, like everybody else, that has a perfectly good camera, and thus did not need to buy a dedicated camera.
It additionally means I am more discerning about the items I do buy, and I can at last review my bank statements devoid of experiencing shame or embarrassment.
Naturally, there have been times I’ve relapsed into old patterns – it's human nature. The difference now is that I can recognise the warning signs early, especially when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve come to understand boredom is a powerful catalyst. It’s perhaps the biggest driver of my reckless spending.
Consumer culture preys on this idleness and our desire for immediate gratification. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to pause before buying has felt unexpectedly liberating. To be able to have control over my urges and reaffirming that I don't have to expend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.
A seasoned gaming enthusiast with over a decade of experience in lottery analysis and casino reviews.
