In October of last year, I decided to go a month without spending money on anything I didn’t need. My Buddhist group were fundraising for a new centre by each stopping or giving up something for a month and it seemed like a good idea to pause and examine my spending habits. I was in the bad habit of picking up something small each time I went out and I wanted to recognise where that impulse came from as well as try and save money. I’d seen my bank balance rise during lockdown when there was no possibility of just popping to the coffee shop and I felt as if I’d fallen back into bad habits of buying things I didn’t need. I’d been interested in trends towards minimalism and more ethical consumption, which seemed to have popped up visibly on my social media feeds, and decluttering my house to move over the summer had alerted me to how easy it is to acquire things and how difficult (and often unsustainable!) it is to get rid of stuff. I wanted to record some thoughts on how that month went and the effects of that experiment a few months down the line.

Not spending money in October was really tough. I thought the first few weeks would be difficult and that after that, my urge to purchase something would abate and I’d be able to float around town in a state of blissful zen, free of the craving to buy something. In actuality, the whole month proved difficult. It was difficult to walk past the coffee shop without popping in for a latte and fiendishly difficult to walk past second hand bookshops without picking something up. Each time I considered a purchase, I would ask myself ‘do you really NEED it?’ Invariably, the answer was no. I don’t need more caffeine or another novel. However, each time I didn’t buy something, a tantrum took place internally, inner me throwing herself to the ground and yelling, ‘but I WANT it!’ I began making fantasy shopping lists in my head of all of the things I’d buy in November when this irritating exercise was over. Items began presenting themselves to me from every quarter – new Buddha figures, freshly baked custard tarts and tantalising shiny things. I noticed a physical reaction to having to walk away from things I’d previously have blithely purchased – a clenching of the jaw and a tightening of the stomach. I was hyper- aware of the difficulty I was having in saying no.

As the month went on, I became more aware of the impulses behind my spending habits. As with everyone, my own conditioning informs my relationship with money and spending. I’d always considered myself quite financially prudent, but this month had revealed another side to my attitude to money. I tend to make small purchases when I’m bored or when I’m feeling uncomfortable or anxious. Buying something, especially if it’s say, a pair of earrings or a new cleanser, gives me a little thrill, but also makes me feel more in control of my life, as though the purchase will both distract from the painful feelings, but also contribute to my recovery from them – if I have this thing, it will insulate me from feeling this way again. Halfway through the month, I bought a necessary sofa for my flat and the relief and endorphins accompanying the purchase were noticeable and almost overwhelming. I recognized that much of the difficulty of not-spending sprang from having to sit with uncomfortable emotions and wait for them to pass, rather than applying the temporary panacea of a purchase. A bit of a revelation for me there.

In November, I did begin to shop again, but with more perspective and a little more cautiously. I would still apply the question about need and sometimes, I walked away from things I wasn’t sure about or hadn’t gone out looking for. I didn’t buy many of the things I had dreamed about in October and when I did shop, I felt guilty. Clearly, I still have some work to do in effecting a balanced attitude to shopping. A few months down the line, I’m still very aware of what I spend money on, especially if it’s those small things, which can really add up. I now try and buy only things I really need, or things I can imagine myself keeping, using and enjoying for a long time (although we’re still working on the coffee thing!) I’m also much more aware of the life cycle of things. How long will this last me? Will I be able to recycle it when I’m finished? How will I dispose of it? Buying ethically and more sustainably has become a larger part of my attitude to spending.

Even after just a month of not spending, new attitudes to spending, shopping, craving and anxiety are still making themselves known to me and I find that really fascinating and useful. Just yesterday, I found myself under the harsh lights of my local New Look, contemplating a pair of knee high mulberry - coloured boots. They were in my size, slouchy and silly and down to a ridiculous sale price. I slid them on and spent a few minutes parading in front of the mirror. The faux suede looked as though it would discolour quickly. The heel height made my knee ache and if purchased, they’d most likely end up in landfill. But they looked wonderful on! That was when I realised; I didn’t want to buy them. What I really wanted was to see how cute my feet looked in a pair of shoes I would never normally wear and to indulge in a five minute fantasy of all of the places I could wear these boots to and the person I might be when I wore them. Pre-October me would have bought them on the strength of this fantasy and they would inevitably have languished at the back of the cupboard. Present me was happy to pop them back on the shelf and leave, knowing she’d gained all the enjoyment from them she needed.