A mama wrote to me the night before a flight: “The bag is open on the bed and nothing I own is going in it.” Packing for a trip with a nursing baby is a particular kind of night-before. You need clothes that open at the gate, in the hire car, on the bench outside the museum; that survive a suitcase and a leak; that fit a body that may change between leaving and coming home; and that somehow leave room in the case for the eleven things the baby needs.
I have packed for trips with one baby, and then with a baby and two older children who each had an opinion about their own bag. The first time I took far too much and wore almost none of it, because nothing I had packed went with anything else and most of it did not open. I spent a week away in the same two tops. The trip I finally got right was the one where I packed with a rule instead of a mood, and the rule has not changed since.
This is that rule, worked through step by step: how to choose the colours, which twenty pieces make the list, why two shoes are enough, and how the whole thing becomes twenty-five outfits without a second suitcase. Everything opens for a feed. Everything fits a carry-on. You can pack from your own wardrobe tonight; most of these shapes are already in it.

Step 1. Decide the rule before you open the wardrobe
Every piece must pass three tests: it opens for a feed or lifts for a pump, it survives a suitcase without ironing, and it goes with every other piece in the bag. If it fails one, it stays home, however much you love it. This rule is what stops the bag filling with maybes.
Write it on the back of your hand if you have to. The night before a trip is not when your judgement is at its best, and the rule does the judging for you.
Step 2. Pick five colours that never argue
Two neutrals, one dark, one warm, one colour. Mine are navy and ivory, espresso, taupe and one dusty blue. With five colours that agree, any two pieces you pull out of a hotel-room bag at six in the morning will go together, and the stripe counts as the navy.
If you run warm, swap navy for espresso and dusty blue for terracotta. The structure stays. The Colour Season Quiz tells you which family is yours in two minutes, free.
Step 3. The underlayer: two clip-down tanks and a wireless bra
A clip-down nursing tank in ivory and one in navy go under everything, so a shirt can unbutton and a wrap can untie in public with something still between you and the airport. A soft wireless nursing bra you have worn before, not a new one on travel day.
Pack breast pads in the hand luggage, not the hold. Everything else can be bought at the other end; those cannot be bought at thirty thousand feet.
From the capsules
The Travel Capsule
Twenty pieces, twenty-five outfits that fit one carry-on, with the Packing List and the On-the-Go Toolkit. $19.99 once, yours to keep.
Step 4. Four tops that open
A dusty blue chambray shirt that buttons, rolls and never creases. An espresso sleeveless wrap top for the hot days and the one dinner. An ivory V-neck tee that lifts from the hem, the plane tee. A navy henley that buttons down for the feed at the gate. One stripe, ivory and navy, because a stripe is the thing that looks deliberate in every photograph.
Five tops, if you count the stripe. All of them over the tank. All of them in the bag rolled, not folded.
Step 5. Four bottoms with soft waists
Navy travel trousers that do not crease over seven hours of sitting. Taupe linen trousers that are wide, cool, and forgive. Navy walking shorts for the hot days. An espresso midi skirt that rolls into nothing and looks like effort at dinner. Every waistband is soft at the back and sits above a scar.
Four bottoms, four tops, and already that is sixteen combinations before the dresses. This is why the colours matter more than the count.
Free · five emails, five days
Five days, five small changes, and a wardrobe that works with your body as it is now.
One email a day for five days, each with one thing to do that takes less time than a feed. By Friday the closet makes sense again.
Free. Unsubscribe any time, no hard feelings.
Step 6. Two dresses, one that buttons and one that wraps
A navy button-front midi for the dinner, the travel day and the church; buttons from the top for a feed, from the bottom to walk. A dusty blue wrap midi for the hottest day, one piece between you and the air, tied where your waist is this week. Two dresses, no waistbands, both open at the front.
Ten ways to wear a wrap dress while nursing if the wrap becomes your travel dress.
Step 7. Three layers, because planes are cold and evenings turn
An ivory cardigan buttoned to the middle: the plane blanket, the feeding cover on a bench, the layer that comes off with one hand. A navy packable rain jacket in the bottom of the bag. A taupe relaxed blazer that turns the wrap top and the trousers into dinner in one move.
Three layers is more than most packing lists allow and fewer than you will want to bring. Trust the three.
Free · eight questions
What to buy first, in the order to buy it.
The Order asks about your feeding, your season and your days, then gives you twelve pieces in the order they earn their place, with a picture and a shop link for each. Nothing you do not need.
Free. The list can be emailed to you so it is there in the shop.
Step 8. Two shoes, two bags, one scarf
Ivory walking sneakers for every day of it; taupe sandals for the heat and the evening. Two shoes carry all twenty-five outfits, which is how a fortnight fits a carry-on. An espresso crossbody for your hands, a navy backpack that is the carry-on and the changing bag at once. One striped scarf: cover for a feed, blanket on the plane, the thing that finishes the tee and trousers.
That is twenty pieces. Eight nursing-friendly ways to wear two travel-ready pieces shows how far a small set stretches.
Step 9. Pack by outfit, not by category
Lay the twenty pieces on the bed and make the outfits before anything goes in: the flight, the first morning, the hot walk, the lunch, the dinner, the rain, the flight home. Roll each top with its bottom. The trip is decided before you leave, and the hotel room at six in the morning is a matter of copying, not choosing.
Twenty-five outfits is what twenty pieces in five colours make. I laid out every one and put it on a body, with how it opens, in the Travel Capsule, which also comes with the Packing List that writes itself from where you are going and how long for.
The Nursing Mama Fashion Commandments
Twelve rules I wish someone had told me postpartum. Print them. Screenshot them. Live by them.
- Nursing bra always. Regular bras become instruments of pain the day letdown surprises you.
- Nursing pads on your body + a spare pair in your bag. Every single time you leave the house. No exceptions.
- Extra top in your bag — for YOU, not the baby. Because leaks, spit-up, and coffee-spills don’t care about your outfit plan.
- If it takes more than 5 minutes to figure out how to nurse or pump in it, it’s not the right outfit today. Feeding access is comfort. Comfort is not optional.
- Belt under the bust (empire) or below the belly with drape — never at the belly button. Your postpartum body deserves flattery, not compression.
- Comfortable waistband is non-negotiable. Elastic, wrap, or pull-on. Zippers are a Sunday-only luxury for now.
- Dark tones, prints, or textures — not thin light solids. Because letdown marks are real and you deserve clothes that don’t advertise them.
- Machine-washable everything. Dry-clean is not real-mama fashion. If it can’t survive a spit-up rinse, it’s not in rotation.
- Cross-body bag only. Hands stay free for the carrier, the toddler, the coffee, the door, the meltdown.
- Comfortable shoes always. You’re carrying a car seat and a diaper bag. This is not the season for a heel you can’t run in.
- Get dressed BEFORE the kids see you if you can. It changes the whole day — for them and for you.
- One accessory — earrings, a lip color, a scarf — counts as “put together.” That’s the whole game. You get to feel like yourself again.
Step 10. The things that are not clothes
Pads and spares in the hand luggage. A muslin or two. The pump, if you pump, with the charger and the bottles in a clear bag, because security will ask. A soft cooler bag if you are bringing milk home. Nipple cream in a travel size. A lipstick, because after a feed in an airport chair it is the fastest way back to feeling like a person.
And the thing I would say to any mama packing tonight: the baby’s bag will be fine. You always pack the baby’s bag well. Spend the extra twenty minutes on yours.
I think of the trip I spent in the same two tops as the one that taught me the rule, and I am fond of it now, the way you become fond of the hard lessons later. Travelling with a baby is enough work. The clothes should not be more of it. Twenty pieces that all open and all agree, and the hotel-room morning becomes the easiest part of the day.
If you want the twenty-five outfits already laid out so you can copy them into the case tonight, the Travel Capsule has them worn and photographed, with the Packing List and the On-the-Go Toolkit, and three pictures of you in them on the house. If you want someone to pack with you from your own wardrobe, Anah inside the Atelier knows what is in your drawers and will make the list with you. And if the dress you are thinking of taking might or might not open, Will it feed answers from a screenshot, free.
Pack the rule, not the mood. Then go. The focus is on you, mama.
You deserve to be looked after too
A stylist who already knows you, every morning.
The Atelier is Anah every morning, already knowing your season, your shape and your closet. The community, the magazine, the planner, and Dress me for the mornings when choosing is the hard part.

