One day at work a couple of years back, an notification hit on my mobile device: 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 payday ritual: I launched every single retail application on my device. Amazon, Vinted, Etsy, Depop, Zara, you name it. In under 60 minutes, I had spent £90 on apparel, home decor and a totally useless weighted blanket that never touched.
A short while after, I returned to the internet and bought a blow dryer. I already had one, but reasoned an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I added light strips and two 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 stressed, exhausted or uninterested, I would mindlessly scroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping binge. My excuse was always: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and so on.
I was never entirely certain about the reason. Perhaps it was due to my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d experience months without purchasing new outfits or anything to decorate the house. So any time I had some disposable income, there was always a subconscious desire for novel and exciting things. Or maybe, 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 experiment with something new. Prior to buying any item, I’d place it in my digital cart, wait 24 hours, then make a choice whether to finalize the purchase. The greatest advantage of this method was that it gave me time to reflect – an action I’d never done before. For the first occasion since adulthood, I started asking myself: “Do I actually 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 remove them and start fresh. Using this method, I stopped acquiring things that I knew deep down I would never use. I once wanted to buy a trio of games, but after waiting before going to the store, I realised I never actually play board games.
I also contemplated buying a single-use camera for my first trip to the coast. After waiting I remembered I had a smartphone, like everybody else, that features a perfectly good camera, and therefore did not need to acquire a separate camera.
It additionally means I am more discerning about the items I do buy, and I can finally review my bank statements without experiencing shame or embarrassment.
Of course, there have been times I’ve slipped back into old patterns – it’s only natural. The key change is that I can identify the warning signs sooner, particularly when I’m rushing into a purchase. I’ve come to understand boredom is a strong trigger. It’s perhaps the biggest motivator of my reckless expenditure.
Consumer culture preys on this boredom and our need for instant satisfaction. That’s why, in hindsight, forcing myself to pause before purchasing has felt strangely freeing. To be able to have control over my urges and remind myself that I don’t need to spend my diligently earned money on unnecessary goods feels as revolutionary as it is straightforward.
Elena is a seasoned luxury travel writer with a passion for uncovering exclusive destinations and sharing insider tips.