Temu, that's it between us: I'm breaking up!

I resisted for a long time. After all, everyone knows that Temu's business practices are questionable, the quality of its products is a matter of luck, and the long transport routes aren't exactly environmentally friendly. Not to mention the guilty conscience you get when one store after another closes in the city center or your own neighborhood.

And yet, I have to say: Hi, my name is Vanessa, and I ordered from Temu. The first time was on August 8, 2023, after seeing what must have been the 187th ad and the 253rd haul on TikTok.

The guide for health, well-being, and the whole family – every other Thursday.

By subscribing to the newsletter, I agree to the advertising agreement .

Ultimately, a giant inflatable bubble that could be filled with water and that my nieces and nephews would surely have a blast on was the deciding factor. And, of course, if you're already ordering one, it has to be worth it, I thought.

So, cutting mats for my hobby plotter, chiffon gift ribbon, several silicone molds and glitter for epoxy resin casting, and a viral ice cube tray for small, spherical ice cubes ended up in my shopping cart. Thanks to a €20 discount voucher, I paid exactly €56.17 for 36 products.

Two more orders followed, each a few months apart. As a big DIY fan, these were mostly crafting materials or organizers and gadgets for the home. Order number two came because I couldn't resist the super bargain offer for one of the now iconic Stanley Cups for €6.75. The original costs around €50 and was quite rare to find in Germany at the time.

Of course, everyone is free to choose where they want to order. But Temu's marketing strategists are very adept at playing on people's baser impulses. I became aware of this in February of this year.

I was hooked by a Temu ad featuring an incredibly cute silicone mold for casting clay, which I'd never seen before. As you can see, crafting materials are one of my biggest weaknesses. And what luck! Right after opening the app, Temu immediately threw a promotion with free credit at me.

Won 90 euros in credit! I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted to order. I just wanted to take a look first . But the impulse took over. If I'm going to order anyway, I'd better do it now, otherwise I'll just give away the free credit, I thought. As an informed person, I'm naturally aware that there's usually a catch, especially with platforms like these, and I wanted to read the promotional terms and conditions more closely.

"Like on the promotion page" – what? As it says there, you'll receive a free luxury yacht? A free apple? Buy a washing machine? Donate a kidney? Or two? Sell your soul? Complete instructions were scarce, and even on the rules page, they were only partially understandable, as if they had been translated using Windows 2000.

Just out of curiosity about how this would work, and whether there would actually be gifts or whether I was just being led astray again, I went ahead with my order. After all, I knew I would need 280 coins. I just didn't know how many coins I would receive for each purchase value.

I ordered 26 items—mostly stamps or dies—for €66.91. The order earned me 260 coins.

As Temu happily informed me, I was only 20 coins away from reaching €90. Math was never my strong suit, but 260 coins for a €66 order, that's almost four coins for one euro.

So I ordered again. Finally, it was made very clear to me that I only had one chance . Only on this site . At least it wasn't announced in capital letters. A bit more crafting for 10.52 euros. But then the disappointment: That had only earned me a few coins. Another order – out of spite, curiosity, anger, or fueled ambition? For 4.31 euros, I bought a stamp, a holder for my husband's razor, and a pin with a boomerang bearing the word karma. I still hadn't reached my goal of 280 coins, but I was now pulling the ripcord on my little experiment.

That was the moment when it became clear to me that there would never be a fulfilling relationship between Temu and me. Tired of the false promises and manipulation, I drew a line under it. Without giving another thought to my pending orders, I closed the app.

A few weeks later, I almost had to chuckle when I read an article with the headline "Consumer Center Considers Lawsuit Against Online Retailer Temu" for unclear discount promotions and pressure tactics when ordering. It sounded quite familiar.

To write this article, I had to reopen the Temu app. Our first contact in a long time. I searched for all the data and facts I needed from the order history. I currently have €2.74 in credit that I can still redeem. And while I was writing the first few paragraphs of this text, I received a push notification from Temu on my phone.

Activated ? It sounds like it's already been credited to my account. I can follow the urge to click on it with the argument of journalistic due diligence.

I can earn Temu credit through the shell game, break golden eggs for an upgrade, and get €50 off my first order instead of €30, but only if I order within the next two hours. At least, after massive criticism from the EU, the fine print has become larger and clearer.

Nevertheless, I feel disappointed again. And confirmed in my decision to separate. Because, as the saying goes: If you fool me once, shame on you. If you fool me twice, shame on me.