You probably already own more than enough stuff. And yet, if you’re anything like me, there’s still a long list of things you’re tempted to buy right now.
New routines. Small treats. “Just this one thing”. These things all add up, and yet buying them has become completely normalised.
So consider this your friendly deinfluencing guide: 19 things that, for me at least, are no longer worth the money.
1. Regular Dining Out and Takeaways
When my husband and I first met, we ate out at least once a week. When we had kids, we’d take them out for pizza every few weeks.
Now? The prices have become absolutely insane.
I fully understand that the hospitality industry is under huge pressure — food costs, staffing, rent, energy — and I hate the idea of good businesses struggling. But at the same time, I can’t justify £70–£80 for four pizzas and some ice cream, eaten at speed because the kids lose interest after about an hour. Add a couple of drinks and the bill jumps another £15–£30.
Takeaways aren’t much better. Delivery fees quietly stack up, even on “cheap” options like Nando’s or McDonald’s.
These days we eat out or get a takeaway roughly once every other month. Instead, we’ve leaned into cooking more interesting meals at home — Thai, Indian, comfort food — or having luxury ready meals as an occasional treat. Coffee and smoothies are almost always homemade now too, apart from the odd treat.
2. Trends (and the Lipstick Effect)
This one needs a disclaimer — and a cool economic term: the Lipstick Effect.
One thing I really dislike about frugality as a concept is how often it’s framed as deprivation, or worse, as a reason to shame people for buying “frivolous” things.
I don’t believe frugality means never enjoying your money. If it did, I wouldn’t have taken my kids to Disneyland last year, and I certainly wouldn’t buy my daughter the outrageously cute but totally functionless Jellycats she loves.
Sometimes, it is okay to buy into a trend — if it genuinely brings you joy, not if you’re buying it out of pressure, hype, or fear of missing out.
Trends come and go quickly. The other day I noticed Labubus were suddenly available again at our local Pop Mart after being impossible to buy just months ago. That’s how manufactured scarcity works.
The Lipstick Effect describes how, in tougher times, people spend on smaller indulgences when bigger luxuries are out of reach. A pricier lipstick instead of a holiday. A luxury ready meal instead of dining out.
I hate extremes, so my approach is simple:
Buy into trends that make sense for you.
Fifteen Stanley Cups in different colours? That doesn’t make sense.
One Stanley Cup you genuinely love, need, and will use? Fair enough.
I won’t be buying into the Stanley Cup trend personally — but plenty of people love them. It’s your money. Just make sure you’re not going into debt for trends you feel lukewarm about.
3. Extensive Skincare Regimes
The rise of the 11-step skincare routine is one of the worst gifts TikTok has given us — closely followed by complicated skincare for children.
Most experts agree that skincare basics are simple:
Cleanse, moisturise, and use SPF. Retinol can help ageing skin, but it doesn’t need to cost a fortune or exist in five different formulations.
My routine is deliberately basic: makeup remover, SPF and moisturiser. That’s it.
4. Duplicate Makeup Products
Makeup has the same problem as skincare.
Spend any time on beauty TikTok and you’ll see people with dozens of products that all do the same thing. I’ve had the same blusher for over a year and it’s still going strong. Some people own 30 or 40.
Do your cheeks really need a different blush for every day of the month?
5. Expensive “Self Care”
Self care used to mean simple, grounding habits. Somewhere along the line, it became a justification for overconsumption.
When something is labelled “self care,” it feels more justifiable than “another thing to buy.”
I’d put LED face masks, wellness coaching courses, endless skincare tools, and hyper-complicated routines into this category.
Let’s normalise self care as:
- Taking a walk
- Putting your phone down
- Having a bath that doesn’t cost £200 in products
- Flossing
- Booking your dental check-up
- Reading a book
Self care doesn’t need to be glamorous to feel good.
Some things matter more to different people. I do my own nails at home, but I prioritise getting my hair coloured professionally a few times a year. It’s not about saying no to everything — it’s about spending intentionally.
6. Extra Bedding
We have two sets of sheets per bed. One on, one in the wash. That’s it.
Fresh bedding is one of the best zero-cost acts of self care there is — but it’s easy to overbuy because there are endless options. We stick to white sheets, which helps avoid the urge to “change things up” just for novelty.
7. Annual Phone Upgrades
I’ll admit it: I’m deep in the Apple ecosystem.
That said, planned obsolescence is real. My three-year-old phone is already losing battery life faster than it should. Companies want you upgrading constantly.
But annual upgrades make no sense if your phone still works for your needs. I’m aiming to get at least another two years out of mine.
8. Premium & Hyper-Specific Kitchen Gadgets
I cook almost everything from scratch, and I already own what I need.
Shops are flooded with gadgets designed to solve problems that barely exist: bread crust removers, egg separators, avocado slicers, banana holders, bagel toasters, crepe makers.
Bread makers can be worth it — if you bake bread weekly. I know I won’t.
The same goes for endless matching food containers. I have good Tupperware for leftovers and baking. I don’t decant everything into aesthetic jars. You lose use-by dates and gain extra work.
9. ALL the TV Streaming Services
It’s very easy to end up paying for everything.
If you subscribed to every major UK streaming service, you’d be spending well over £100 a month. Instead, we rotate. Two services at a time, binge what we want, then move on.
Right now I’m watching something on Now TV. Next month, maybe Paramount+.
Two subscriptions usually keep us under £20 a month.
10. Sky/cable TV
Unless you’re deeply into live sport, Sky feels increasingly unnecessary.
We had it for years and genuinely don’t miss it. Everything is on catch-up or streaming now. Movies can be rented when needed.
11. Subscription Boxes
Food boxes, beauty boxes, toy subscriptions — I’ve tried them.
For me, the cost doesn’t add up. Food boxes are more expensive than the supermarket, and beauty subscriptions encourage accumulation instead of using what you have.
Regular deliveries can quietly convince you that you need more than you do.
12. Buy Now, Pay Later & Credit Card Interest
Borrowing has never been easier — or more normalised.
I recently saw a £2 bath bomb offered with Klarna instalments. Four payments of 25p. That’s unhinged.
I’m not talking about people using credit for essentials. I’m talking about funding lifestyle upgrades with debt: holidays, cars, clothes, constant upgrades.
Interest keeps people stuck. Catching up becomes impossible.
Let’s normalise living below our means.
13. Brand New Cars
New cars are sold as a symbol of success, but financially they’re one of the fastest ways to lose money.
A new car typically loses 20–30% of its value in the first year and 50–60% within three years — no matter how well you treat it.
The real trap is finance. Long-term monthly payments eat into your budget while the car depreciates faster than the loan balance drops.
Buying used — after the biggest depreciation hit — can dramatically reduce monthly stress.
14. Paying for Convenience That Doesn’t Save Time
Convenience is sold as freedom, but sometimes it’s just expensive laziness.
Some shortcuts make sense. I buy pre-chopped mango because I genuinely struggle with it. Watermelon? I buy whole.
Not all convenience is bad — but not all of it is worth the markup.
15. Extra Laundry Products
The cleaning aisle has exploded.
I stick to detergent. No scent boosters, no fabric softener. Fabric softener can actually damage clothes and washing machines long-term.
We air-dry clothes and don’t use dryer sheets.
16. Single-Use Cleaning Products
I keep baby wipes for emergency spills. But disposable floor wipes, single-use mop pads, endless cleaning wipes? Nope, don’t need them.
Washable cloths and pads work just as well and cost far less over time.
17. Disposable Period Products
I’ve used reusable period products for about five years. Switching back occasionally when travelling aside, they’ve saved me money and reduced waste.
Monthly costs add up, even for “cheap” essentials.
18. Clothes for Your Fantasy Life
One of the biggest turning points in my spending habits came when I realised I wasn’t buying clothes for my actual life.
I was buying for the life I imagined: dinners I don’t attend, events that don’t happen, a version of me with more time and energy.
The clothes represented what I wanted to look like or the things I wanted to do, but became clutter.
Getting honest about my real routine changed everything. I buy far less now, but wear more of what I own.
19. Fast Fashion “Haul” Shopping
Clothes aren’t the problem. Overbuying is.
Hauls normalise impulse shopping. Ten cheap items feel like a bargain — until half are unworn or worn out quickly.
I’d rather buy fewer items I actually reach for, even if they cost more. It’s saved me money and decision fatigue.
