One day at work two years ago, an alert popped up on my phone: my paycheck had come through. It was a decent sum for a someone still at university, so I did my usual payday ritual: I launched every retail application on my device. From Amazon to Zara, the list was endless. In under 60 minutes, I had parted with £90 on clothes, home decor and a completely useless weighted blanket that never touched.
A few days later, I went online again and purchased a blow dryer. I already had one, but thought an extra one couldn't hurt. Then I included LED strip lights and two shoes that didn't even fit me. 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 bored, I would doomscroll until it always culminated in an impulsive shopping spree. My justification was constantly: “Oh well, it’s just £5.” But £5 became £10, then £20, and continued.
I was never completely sure why I did this. Perhaps it was because my upbringing in a low-income family, where we’d go months without buying new outfits or anything to brighten up the home. So any moment I had extra money, there was always a hidden yearning for novel and thrilling things. Or possibly, and almost certainly, I was just financially irresponsible and gave in easily to capitalism’s demands.
In the end, I opted to try a novel idea. Prior to buying any item, I’d place it in my digital cart, delay for 24 hours, then make a choice on whether to finalize the purchase. The best part of this method was that it gave me time to think – something I’d never done before. For the first occasion since adulthood, I began questioning: “Do I actually require this? Is it within my budget?” Most of the time, the answer was negative.
If I opened Amazon, Depop or Zara and discovered products sitting in my basket, I’d remove them and begin anew. By employing this method, I ceased buying things that I intuitively knew I would never use. I once considered purchasing a trio of games, but after waiting before going to the store, I understood I never actually engage with tabletop games.
I also contemplated buy a disposable film camera for my first holiday to the coast. After waiting I recalled I had a smartphone, like most people, that has a perfectly good lens, and therefore had no requirement to buy a separate device.
It also means I am more discerning about the items I do buy, and I can at last review my bank statements without experiencing guilt or discomfort.
Naturally, there have been occasions I’ve relapsed into old patterns – it's human nature. The difference now is that I can identify the warning signs early, especially when I’m hastening into a transaction. I’ve realised boredom is a strong trigger. It’s perhaps the primary driver of my impulsive expenditure.
Consumer culture exploits this boredom and our desire for instant gratification. That’s why, in hindsight, compelling myself to halt before buying has felt unexpectedly freeing. Gaining command over my impulses and reaffirming that I don't have to spend my diligently earned money on unnecessary products feels as revolutionary as it is simple.
A seasoned gambling analyst with over a decade of experience in the UK casino industry, specializing in slot reviews and player advocacy.