Millionairess Amanda Prowse says the secret of happiness is fitting all you own into one box. She looks into whether splashing the cash really makes you happy as women reveal their very different spending diaries on various salaries...

One pair of jeans, two T-shirts, two dresses, a couple of tunic tops, a pair of pyjamas, a dressing gown, four sets of mismatched underwear, five pairs of socks, some costume jewellery, a pashmina and a cagoule, in case it rains — it reads like the checklist of someone packing for a mini-break.

But actually, there is little else you need to add to that modest list of clothes before you have the sum total of what I consider my personal possessions.

In addition to that ultimate capsule wardrobe, I own a laptop, a pot full of pens, pencils and a pair of scissors, plus two precious wooden tulips that my grand-father hand-carved for my grandmother 70 years ago.

Amanda Prowse, above, says she can fit all of her belongings inside a plastic storage box, with room to spare

My make-up bag contains a set of brushes, one lipstick, false eyelashes and glue, along with mascara, blush tint, nail polish and a pot each of concealer, foundation, eye-shadow and brow tint.

Footwear consists of no more than a pair of boots, flip-flops, trainers and wellies. Throw in a bottle of perfume, a small mirror and my suede handbag, and the list is complete.

I can fit the whole lot inside a plastic storage box, sat on my kitchen table, with room to spare.

This sparse collection doesn’t exist out of necessity, however. I am worth millions.

The novels I write about family life have in the past five years made me richer than I could ever have dreamed. And yet I own less now than I did when I was a cleaning lady earning a few pounds an hour, struggling to pay the gas bill and with credit card debts so huge they kept me awake at night.

Despite being in the privileged position of being able to afford to live in a mansion and drown myself in material luxuries, I don’t even own the roof under which I sleep. Nor do I own a car. In fact, I still get the bus into town.

JULIA EARNS £20,000 A YEAR JULIA EDGLEY, 38, from South-East London JULIA EDGLEY, 38, from South-East London, is an accountant working part-time for a charity where she earns £20,000 a year. Her husband is a quantitative analyst. She says: Until 2014 I had a full-time job, earning almost twice what I do now, but decided there was more to life than working nine to five every day. What I’d really love to do is act. Working two day a week enables me to take acting workshops at RADA, dance classes and train with an accent coach, a total cost of £500 a month. I’m lucky that my husband earns a good wage and pays the mortgage and utility bills, as well as covering our holidays. I often have to ask him to clear my credit card bill, too. That leaves me with the £400-a-month Tesco shop, £35 for home insurance and the £100 a month we pay our cleaner. When I worked full-time I’d come home and complain about my job most evenings. I’m definitely more content working fewer days for less money. Monthly income £1,500 After £70 deduction for pension contribution Groceries £400 Home insurance £35 Mobile phone £26 Cleaner £120 Gym membership £50 Clothes £150 Socialising £100 Travel £150 Haircut, colour and products £115 Beauty treatments £20 Dance classes £300 Acting workshops £100 Voice coach £100 Total £1,666 Advertisement

The bed I sleep in, the mugs, glasses and crockery I eat and drink from, and the sofa I curl up on to write my best-selling novels all belong to my adult sons, whose house I call home.

I suppose I must sound like an oddity: the consummate eccentric millionaire who appears from the outside to be worth very little while their accountant knows otherwise.

But, actually, it took me becoming immensely wealthy to realise just how little real value belongings actually hold. For me, the phrase ‘money doesn’t buy happiness’ is more than a cliche — it is a dictum by which I live my life.

I buy nothing more than I need and keep only what continually serves me. As a result, I feel light and unencumbered.

I’d rather blow my money on a wonderful meal or weekend away with my friends than spend it on designer labels.

KERRIE EARNS £38,000 A YEAR KERRIE MOUNTFORD, 43, from Boston, Lincolnshire KERRIE MOUNTFORD, 43, from Boston, Lincolnshire, is a PE teacher and mother to Bethan, 13, and Liam, ten. Divorced, she works full-time, earning £38,000. She says: I worked part-time until my husband moved out three years ago, so I had no choice but to take a full-time position. Initially this was stressful and I felt resentful. Quality time with the children is very important to me. I budget £130 for family fun each weekend and we go swimming, to the cinema and to Laser Tag, where we pretend to shoot one another with laser guns. I used to enjoy the occasional manicure and spa day, but I can’t afford those luxuries any more. Over the past three years I’ve got to like the independence of earning all the money — and deciding how it’s spent. There’s very little left over, but I still try to stay in the black rather than going overdrawn, as that feels like a very slippery slope to me. Monthly income £2,200 PLUS £400 child maintenance and £136 child benefit: £2,736 Mortgage £400 Asda grocery shop £360 Childcare £200 Petrol £120 Car service plan £25 All utilities £400 Household maintenance £150 Home and car insurance £80 Mobile phones £40 Dining out £50 Clothes (for all) £100 Haircuts £30 School trips £10 Family fun £520 Savings £250 Total £2,735 Advertisement

Going shopping for clothes seems, by comparison, like nothing more than a wretched chore. And rather than seeing my behaviour as wacky, I think I’m just actually a little ahead of my time.

After all, consumer analysts started scratching their heads last year, wondering where all the shoppers have gone, after registering a drop in footfall in High Streets and shopping centres of up to 10 per cent in cities across the UK.

Further data crunching revealed that instead of buying things, for many people there has been a shift towards spending money on doing things instead.

According to the Office for National Statistics, households have started spending less on clothes but more on holidays, entertainment and eating out.

Those are precisely the things I have always taken the most pleasure in spending my money on. Far better to enjoy an experience with the people I love rather than sitting at home surrounded by stuff when there is always a bigger, better and more expensive version of it waiting to come on the market.

And I’m far from the only woman turning my back on possessions. Take Michelle McGagh, a financial journalist, who jumped off the spending bandwagon in 2015 and bought only basic food items for a year, saving an astonishing £22,000 in the process.

KATIE EARNS £51,000 A YEAR KATIE KOUTSAVAKIS, 38, from Croydon, Surrey KATIE KOUTSAVAKIS, 38, from Croydon, Surrey, works full-time in finance and earns £51,000. Her husband Manos, 38, is a freelance TV editor. They have two children Mia, eight, and Sophia, four. She says: After Sophia was born I became a stay-at-home mum, but having just one freelance income was very stressful so I went back to work last May. We’re putting all our efforts into clearing our mortgage early. It’s so exciting imagining how much spare cash we’ll have once it’s repaid in just five years time. But we’re not prepared to give up our week in the sun — last year we went to Cyprus — which costs us around £3,500. The girls also do all kinds of extra-curricular clubs: gymnastics, trampolining, Brownies, youth club, guitar lessons and swimming. The message from society seems to be that we should want a bigger house or a better car, but we’ve got enough — and spending time together as a family is far more important to us. Monthly income £2,750 AFTER pension, healthcare, and professional insurance deductions, £136 child benefit, plus £1,000 from her husband towards the family budget: £3,886 Mortgage £1,800 Groceries £350 Childcare £550 Utilities £380 Car loans £300 Mobile phones £70 Family fun £150 Socialising £150 Kids’ activities £100 Takeaways £120 Clothes £70 Beauty products £25 Haircuts £20 Total £4,085 Advertisement

She’d put all her belongings into storage while she and her husband renovated their new home.

Six months without her material possessions opened her eyes to just how little they actually meant to her, and so she got rid of most of them.

She was further inspired by Buy Nothing Day — an anti-consumerism movement that started in America in response to the utter madness of the annual Black Friday sales, which fall the day after Thanksgiving in the run-up to Christmas.

Instead, for one day people are encouraged to spend nothing, usually on or just after Black Friday, which this year will be November 24. The idea is gaining followers in Britain, too.

McGagh knew she could easily keep her purse shut for a day, but decided a whole year might fully wean her off any desire to fill her new home with more stuff.

The title of her book, The No Spend Year: How I Spent Less And Lived More, says it all.

Women really are falling out of love with belongings: how else might you explain a Japanese book on de-cluttering selling five million copies?

REENA EARNS £60,000 A YEAR DR REENA AGGARWAL, 43, from West London DR REENA AGGARWAL, 43, from West London is a registrar in obstetrics and gynaecology earning around £60,000 a year. She says: I ORIGINALLY trained as a pharmacist, but went back to medical school at 30. I qualified in 2007, but only finished repaying £25,000 of loans last year. While doctors are paid well, compared to many of my friends my job is very stressful for the money I earn. But I earn enough to live my life as I want and to have good holiday to places such as Thailand and Africa. I’m not afraid to rough it a bit, though each trip still costs about £3,000. My other indulgence is membership at a lovely local gym, where fees are £130 a month, but as I get so few opportunities to go I’m planning to cancel it. I try to put away between £500 and £1,000 a month for a rainy day, but do end up dipping into that fund at other times. Monthly income £3,200 AFTER pension deductions Mortgage £800 Professional registration and training fees £200 Utilities £200 Groceries £200 Insurance £150 Travel (including car costs) £150 Gym membership £130 Hair and beauty treatments £100 Clothes £100 Socialising £150 Mobile phone £20 Holidays £500 Savings £500 Total £3,200 Advertisement

I’ve lost count of the number of girlfriends who bought Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic Of Tidying and then raved about how much better they felt after ditching the piles of useless possessions that have cluttered up their homes for years.

As they pack into bin bags hundreds, if not thousands, of pounds worth of stuff they’ve neither used nor needed since bringing it home, they see the futility of heading back to the shops to buy even more. Little wonder shop sales are falling.

I used to have plenty of stuff, but sold most of it soon after I decided to try my hand at becoming a writer seven years ago.

It meant my husband Simeon, 50, and our two sons — now aged 20 and 21 — would have to survive off his modest soldier’s wage.

Living in a poky two-bedroom rented house, with very little to call my own, I used to spend whole evenings poring over the interiors of million-pound properties, while fantasising about being in a position to buy one myself.

Five years ago, my gamble to be a writer paid off, resulting in virtually overnight success and instant wealth.

After 75 rejection letters in 2012, an agent finally took me on. Within three days, she landed me a three-book deal with a six-figure advance for my novel What Have I Done, the story of a woman living in a controlled marriage.

ADELE EARNS £116,000 A YEAR ADELE STICKLAND, 47, is a Pilates instructor ADELE STICKLAND, 47, is a Pilates instructor who also runs get-gorgeous.com. She is married to Dave, 52, who has a shop design business, and they have three children, Ben, 19, Joe, ten, and Zoe, nine. She says: It’s taken almost two decades and a lot of hard work for me to earn over £100,000 a year. Our biggest annual expense is travel — we spend around £12,000. But I can’t think of a better use for our money than creating memories for the family. Last year we had a fortnight in Disneyland, Orlando, a week in Corfu, four weeks touring France and Spain in our camper van and two weeks in an all-inclusive hotel in Cape Verde, off the west coast of Africa. Looking after my body — at a cost of £515 a month — may seem like an extravagance, but it’s essential when, like me, you’re running your own health and fitness business. A couple of months ago, I did treat myself to a brand-new BMW 3 Series car. I had £20,000 in my account, so I thought why not? It brings me great joy. Monthly income £6,200 Mortgage £950 Pension £200 Utilities £690 Holidays £1,000 Groceries £790 Insurance £88 Travel £300 Cleaner £254 Clothes (including children) ... £350 Window cleaner £70 Beauty treatments £515 Dyslexia tutor £200 Kids’ activities £154 Haircuts £40 Child trust fund £30 Savings £400 Total £6,031 Advertisement

Since then I’ve had 17 books published all over the world, nearly all bestsellers — they provide me with an income of £1 million each year.

A financial adviser immediately suggested investing in a new home, with a budget of around £1.5 million.

Imagine the thrill I felt that evening, looking at all those fabulous houses, boasting private tennis courts and rolling lawns, knowing I could take my pick.

And yet, by the time I shut down my computer several hours later, that initial buzz had completely evaporated.

I felt overwhelmed rather than excited at the prospect of every woman’s fantasy becoming my reality.

I was awake all night, mulling over the hours it would take to clean a big house, asking myself what was the point of a tennis court when I hadn’t picked up a racquet since school — and stressing over finding a gardener to maintain lawns I didn’t even own yet.

I felt upset thinking how much I’d miss chatting with my neighbours over our rickety garden fence and imagining how lonely and cut off I might end up feeling in a fabulous home set behind imposing electronic gates.

Amanda says 'Actually, it took me becoming immensely wealthy to realise just how little real value belongings actually hold'

As I lay there, it struck me more profoundly than it ever had before that all my happiness in life truly depended on was the people in it. My friends and my family were what defined me, not the size of my house or the things inside it.

I got more gratification from a chat with the bin men or sharing a pot of tea with our postie than I’d ever fully appreciated until now.

Living in an ivory tower would deny me those simple pleasures. As morning dawned so did the realisation that you are only ever happy or unhappy — there isn’t a sliding scale in between those two states that can be influenced by what you do or don’t possess.

There was so little about my life that I actually wanted to change.

So we stayed put. The next day I booked a holiday to Majorca — the first I’d taken without having had to scrimp and save for it. I did that before paying off £30,000 of credit card debt. Apart from never having to worry about whether we could pay our bills again and being able to indulge a previously unrequited passion for travel, little else has changed.

She continues: 'For me, the phrase ‘money doesn’t buy happiness’ is more than a cliche — it is a dictum by which I live my life'

We bought a nondescript three-bedroom house on a busy estate for the boys — our base at the moment while they’re away at university. When they move back in next year, we may pick up something similarly modest for ourselves or even rent.

Only yesterday, my neighbour told me that she didn’t get it. That if she had my money she’d be living in luxury — shopping for designer clothes, day in and day out.

‘And then what?’ I asked her.

‘Once you’d filled that big house with bling where would you look next for happiness? When would it all ever finally be enough?’

Then she got it.

Because the truth is, when you fail to separate one from the other, happiness only ever lies at the end of the next shopping trip.

And that will never be the kind of happiness that I’m looking for.