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‘I bought three pairs of a £600 shoe, then hid them from my partner’: life as a shopaholic

Marian Kwei
At the peak of her shopping addiction, Marian Kwei, 42, arranged for purchases to be delivered to neighbours - Geoff Pugh for the Telegraph

Have you ever made an impulsive purchase, felt a pang of guilt, and then found yourself hiding it from your partner?

You’re not alone. Some 44pc of people in relationships have hidden their spending from their partner, according to a survey by website TopCashback.

This phenomenon, dubbed “stealth shopping,” has become more common with the convenience of buying online – and the rise of working from home, making it easier to hide those deliveries from a significant other.

Here, we meet three stealth shoppers who undertook ever more elaborate ruses to hide their purchases, and felt guilt, glee – and pride – over their habits.

‘eBay became a serious occupation’

Marian Kwei, 42, a London-based stylist and editorial director of Story magazine, has worked in fashion for 20 years.

“I love fashion and have done since I was a child,” she says.

Kwei’s 30s were marked by excessive shopping, largely justified by her ability to tie it to her work.

Her purchases often came from discounted luxury fashion retailer, The Outnet, or were second-hand finds on eBay.

“I was an avid eBay buyer. I was constantly watching things, and I would set alarms to remember to go and bid on them,” she says. “eBay was a very serious occupation for me at that time.”

At the height of her shopping, three or four packages would arrive at Kwei’s door each day.

“I was keenly aware that maybe I was over-shopping,” she admits.

While it didn’t cause any major issues in her relationship, there were occasional remarks about yet another new bag or pair of shoes.

To keep her shopping under wraps, Kwei resorted to having packages delivered to her neighbours.

“I was shopping as a sport,” she says. “I didn’t want my partner noticing.”

She would intercept the parcels from her elderly neighbours’ house after work, ensuring they went unnoticed.

“I was always carrying very big handbags that were big enough to carry everything,” she explains.

She would then sneak the new items into her wardrobe, denying they were ever new.

However, her tactics weren’t foolproof. After scoring two pairs of Nicholas Kirkwood shoes for half the price at a sample sale, each originally priced over £600, Kwei couldn’t resist hunting down a third pair on eBay. But she couldn’t wear them, as she was trying to cover her tracks.

“I was trying to get away with the fact that I had three pairs of the same shoe,” she says. “I thought I would get away with it because the designs were similar. It was just the materials that were different.”

But eventually, her partner noticed. One day, he pointed out a difference in the shoe patterns.

“I had to confess,” Kwei admits. “Not only did I have a second pair – I actually had three.”

‘I hid my purchases in the car’

John Junior
John Junior, 35, spent £320 on a pair of limited edition trainers, but stashed them unworn under the bed - Asadour Guzelian

John Junior, 35, a script consultant from Manchester, spends around £2,000 a month on designer trainers and clothes.

“I have borderline personality disorder and part of that means I’m very impulsive as a person. I can be quite secretive.”

Junior once splurged £320 on a pair of limited edition red Nike Jordan trainers. Worried about how their partner might react, Junior stashed their shoes in the car and hid the keys. When the coast was clear, they quietly brought the trainers into the house and tucked them under the bed. There the Nikes remain, still unworn.

On other occasions, Junior has gone to great lengths to conceal their purchases. They’ve taken brand new clothes straight to the dry cleaners or claimed they were gifts from friends. To keep the spending under the radar, Junior has even withdrawn cash to pay for items, ensuring no suspicious charges appear on card statements.

Growing up without money, Junior is conscious of the judgement that can accompany a hefty price tag.

“You worry about what other people will think,” they admit. “It’s not about showing off; it’s because I genuinely like it. Whether it’s £20 or £200, if I like something, I’ll buy it.”

Junior adds: “I’m a very humble person, I was homeless a long time ago. I’ve never had anything, and now I’ve got my own house all paid for, no mortgage. I can afford what I want.”

Sometimes, they’d fabricate stories about going out with friends when, in reality, they were treating themselves to a solo dinner at their favourite restaurant, indulging in the priciest dishes without guilt or fear of being judged.

Now that Junior is single, they sometimes wonder if staying that way might be best, sparing them the need to hide their shopping habits. Last year, Junior bought a new Audi without having to answer to anyone.

“It was a good feeling.”

‘I’d hoard things in my work drawer’

Devaki Perera, 54, is the breadwinner for her family. Yet somehow she still finds herself hiding her purchases.

“It’s funny, I never really questioned it before now, but I think it boils down to expectations – probably my own,” she says.

“When my kids wanted expensive trainers, we chalked it up to them just being kids, going through a phase, or wanting to fit in with their friends. When my husband splurged, it was all good because, well, ‘that’s Dad!’ When I bought something that I liked, I felt guilty.”

Perera works as an investment manager and launched her own womenswear brand, Auguri, this year.

“My sisters would say to me, you’ve got enough money to spend on clothes if you wanted to. Why are you hiding it?” says Perera.

For her, there was always a feeling of guilt that came with buying something for herself. Instead of showing off her purchases, she would cut off the labels before taking items home or drop them off at the dry cleaners before they’d even been worn. Sometimes, the clothes wouldn’t even make it home and instead would be kept in a drawer at work.

“A couple of weeks ago, my daughter came into work and I pulled the drawer open, and there were five or six items in there I must’ve bought two years ago.”

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Most of these items were work clothes that Perera would purchase to look smart for investor meetings. Even this fact didn’t assuage the guilt she felt.

“I wasn’t a hoarder. It wasn’t like I was spending thousands a month,” she explains.

Perera would average a couple of hundred pounds a month on clothes, most of these bought from a shop next to her office.

“Part of it was just the guilt of thinking, should I be doing more for the family, as opposed to spending this bit on myself.”

While her husband would never be outright critical of her purchases, it is the smaller comments that got under Perera’s skin.

“It’s the subtle hints that men drop that eventually get to you, like, ‘oh, another top is it?’ or ‘I suppose you won’t be wearing this. This will be right in the back of the cupboard’,” she says. “If you already feel bad about something, then having someone else say even light-hearted comments, you tend to be a little bit more sensitive to it.”

Despite the comments, Perera is working on her guilt surrounding shopping.

“Maybe it’s just part of being a woman,” she adds. “We let those judgments seep into even the smallest decisions, like a simple shopping spree.”