I’m a student shopaholic and I can’t afford it

The struggle is real


From day one of this term – as soon as student finance came through – I promised myself no matter what I did this term I would NOT buy any more clothes, accessories or shoes.

It wasn’t a conscious New Year’s resolution. I hoped I’d profoundly change. I was transforming into an adult in control of their finances and I was going to transcend materialistic fixations, find inner peace and save more money for booze.

Just can’t resist temptation

Yet, as the days rolled past I felt as though all I received were emails about ‘50% off sales’, or I was surrounded by friends running to the plodge to see if their new pair of Air Max had bloody arrived yet. When you go cold turkey, such events leave you with the greatest of cravings that become too much to cope with.

Despite avoiding the shopping centre and removing ASOS from my bookmarks tab, I fell off the shopaholic bandwagon on the 9th of February. The satanic Urban Outfitters was solely to blame. It was a tragic day that I’ll never forgive myself for.

Now I’m destined to a lifetime of Fez’ ‘rum kicks’ and a diet mainly consisting of Sainsbury’s basic pitta bread yet despite this catastrophic fate, at least I can smother this overwhelming pain with the polyester blend thrills of being a consumer as soon as the beautiful velvet dresses, turtleneck jumpers and sparkly crop tops fly majestically into my pigeon hole.

And they arrive as if by magic!

I try to justify it by reminding myself that I like to buy unusual clothes to express my creativity and assert my ‘individuality’. Or, that voice inside insists, “They’re staple items, so you’re barely spending a penny when you think how much you’ll wear it.” Let’s face it, I’m only trying to divert attention from the fact that I’m just a helpless little slave to capitalism and its fast fashion, (as most of us are, right guys?!…)

It must be said that online shopping can be the best alternative for a student if you NEED new clothes, by which I mean you desire them so badly they become necessities. It’s less time consuming and you can find incredible bargains. For instance, shopping for second hand clothes on eBay is be the most economically rewarding option, provided you don’t get overly competitive during a bidding war.

Regardless, by no means can I afford to shop excessively for things I do not need whilst on a controlled student budget. The problem is, that the treasure chest that is the online shopping world is far too convenient and alluring. I can sit on my bed, avoid lectures, gulp endless mugs of tea, grab my laptop and pop onto the ASOS website where I forget about my bank statements.

In the space of a few minutes, I’ve probably found about 20 items all opened in separate tabs, as though forging my own virtual wardrobe. Instead of finding solace in secretly binge eating chocolate, I comfort shop. No one has to see how disgraceful I am and I can stay in my pyjamas to avoid the reality of the work I’ve not done. Perfect!

The wardrobes here are too small

The process of awaiting your delivery by tracking it on your phone is all part of the magical extravaganza. The process though is not perfect. They do sometimes screw up. Even my beloved

ASOS have sent me the wrong sizes or just no orders at all, but I will always forgive them. Why?

Because they let you narrow down my search results to exactly what you want.

They create little lists to show you their favourite clothes.

Best of all, ASOS shows you the wonderful little catwalk videos so I can envisage me wearing the item better.

It is this embarrassing love for a website as though it were my boyfriend that turns me into a fashion guzzling monster who cannot be tamed. Sometimes, I play the game of ‘add all the items you like to your basket and see what ridiculous sum of money it comes to so you can laugh outrageously and then cancel it immediately.’ Sometimes, I buy all the clothes in that basket. Following which, I cry endless tears of shame and student poverty.

I need to ban myself from online shopping again, grow up and return back the clothes I ordered, (but let’s ignore the latter).