Overconsumption Is the New Self Harm (But We’re Still Lured)

Okay, let’s rip off the plaster, overconsumption is quietly destroying us, planet, wallets, mental health, and all.

What’s Really Going On

The average Brit consumes 15.3 tonnes of material every single year, that's 20% more than the global average of 12 tonnes. Only 7.5% of those materials are reused. That leaves over 90% destined for landfill, incineration, or regret. Humanity is using resources at 1.7x Earth’s capacity, essentially robbing future generations just so we can feel rich enough to post product hauls.

We buy trend based things we don’t even like, just because they’re algorithm friendly. One day it’s pink bow clips, the next it’s a £200 Labubu Secret you spent 3 hours searching eBay for, perched next to your Stanley cup collection and a crying candle. And if you’re not filming your cleaning supplies in acrylic drawers under soft lighting, do you even care about hygiene?

When Your House Looks Like a TikTok Stockroom

This is no longer “home decor.”

We’ve glamorised turning our homes into aesthetically curated corner shops, complete with, matching refillable soap bottles from Amazon, a shop’s worth of keyrings to dangle off every colour of Stanley cup under the sun and entire pantry restock reels that could give Tesco Extra a complex

We’re not organising, we’re performing minimalism with maximalist consumerism.

Why We Overconsume, and Why It’s Not Always Just About Stuff

Let’s be real, we don’t just overconsume because we need five types of moisturiser or six variations of cereal. We overconsume because we’re trying to keep up. With influencers. With celebrities. With the idea of who we think we should be.

Instagram feeds look like Zara and Muji had a baby, and suddenly your bathroom needs three trays, a bamboo ladder, and decanted cotton buds to be "aesthetic."

But here's the part that doesn’t get said enough, some of us overconsume because we grew up with nothing. Scarcity, survival, knowing exactly how long a loaf of bread can stretch a week. For me, material things weren’t a given, they were rare, rationed, sometimes not even an option. So now, even when I spend, there’s this weird cocktail of guilt and thrill that comes with it. I love shopping. I really do. But I also love saving. And security. I’ve always felt safer with a buffer in the bank than with ten new lip glosses.

And yet, even I get sucked into the algorithm telling me I need a restock of glow drops or that trending micro handbag that couldn’t fit a tampon if it tried because I want to feel like Kim K for a day.

We’re being sold the illusion of comfort, status, stability, and we buy into it because we want those feelings. The problem is, no amount of restocks, duplicates or hauls will ever really satisfy that need. The “need” isn’t material. It’s emotional.

So we keep clicking Add to Cart to numb out. And we’re rewarded with serotonin for the unboxing and a side of shame after.

Like I said, I for one am a sucker for a little serotonin parcel that gets dropped at my door three days after I felt sad. But it's the influencer culture forcing us to overbuy things that end up in the landfill the second the trend is over that needs to stop being so normalised.

• 61% of Britons say they can’t afford what they need, but scroll long enough and you’ll find someone explaining how their “monthly reset” includes buying 30 new acrylic containers for their oats.

• 87% agree that society is too materialistic, yet most of us have a designated drawer for unused gadgets or pastel toned lip oils we only liked because the lighting looked good in the reel.
  

Side Note - Collecting Isn’t a Crime (But Know the Difference)

Let’s be clear, loving stuff isn’t the issue here. Collecting things that spark joy, nostalgia, or a sense of identity is completely normal. Healthy, even. I collect things. A lot of things. Hands up. Fine.

Some people collect vinyl. Others collect dolls. Some collect memories via receipts, matchbooks, weird little plastic toys with rage faces, whatever. (Hi! All me!)

If it makes you happy, good for you, hun. That’s not what this is about.

The point is, when consumption becomes a personality substitute, a numbing tool, or a constant grasp for identity, that’s when we’re in trouble. When we’re drowning in stuff but still feel like we’re not enough without the next trending thing. When we’re more invested in the haul than the habit.

Why This Isn’t Just About Sustainability

This isn’t about shaming purchases, it's about questioning the performative rituals of online life.

Because what started as sharing routines has spiralled into the aesthetic insta girlie pressure to over own, spending disguised as self care, and before you know it, you're on TikTok justifying your 18th purchase of “that one lip oil that’s actually hydrating” while surrounded by four half used ones from last month’s trend.

Ways you can help yourself;

• Unfollow what makes you feel behind

• Buy only what you’ll still use after the trend dies

• Don’t decant your cereal into aesthetic jars unless it truly brings you peace (and not just content)

• And maybe, just maybe, stop filming your laundry detergent
  

You are not a store. You are a human.

Owning less gives your brain room to breathe, your legacy isn’t your Labubu shelf or how well you restocked your oat milk

Final Thoughts

Overconsumption doesn’t make us evil, it just makes us human in late stage capitalism. But awareness? That’s where the shift starts.

Let’s normalise, buying with intention, buying less, only what we need, or pre loved, using the 1 in, 1 out system.

PS: Check out my next post on how I am project panning my life and clearing the clutter in my brain at the same time, habits, people, hobbies… no impulse buys, just emotional empties.