A mama wrote to me in September: “I cannot breastfeed in regular clothes, and now I have to do it under a jumper.” Fall is the season that catches new mamas out. Summer at least lets you wear one thin thing that opens. Then the mornings turn cold and suddenly a feed means getting through a coat, a cardigan and a top, in a car park, with a toddler asking why we are not moving yet.

The fall after my third I was deep in the fog. I know now that it was postpartum depression; at the time it just felt like I had become someone who could not decide anything, including what to wear. I remember standing in the hallway in a stained grey hoodie because it was the only thing I could feed in without thinking, and realising I had worn it for four days. Not because I liked it. Because deciding was the part I could not do.

What helped, slowly, was taking the deciding away. Twelve pieces that all went together, every one of which opened for a feed or lifted for a pump, hung on one rail where I could see them. I did not get better because of a cardigan. But getting dressed stopped being one more thing I was failing at, and that mattered more than I expected. This is that rail, tidied up over three autumns.

1. Two clip-down nursing tanks, ivory and charcoal

Fall is a layering season, and the tank is the layer that lets everything above it open. Clip down, feed, clip up, and the cardigan and coat never have to come off. One pale, one dark, both long enough to tuck into a high waist and stay there.

I like a ribbed clip-down tank in autumn because the rib holds its shape under knitwear. Buy them before anything else on this list.

2. A henley in navy

The henley is the fall top that nobody thinks of and every nursing mama should own. Three or four buttons at the neck, undone, is an opening wide enough for a feed, and done up it looks like a proper top rather than a nursing top. Long sleeves for the cold, soft cotton against a sore chest.

Navy, so that it goes under the taupe cardigan and over the dark jeans, and so that leaks and spit-up vanish into it by the school run.

3. A striped long-sleeve tee

One stripe per capsule. It is the piece that makes jeans and a cardigan look like you chose them. Ivory and navy, a V or a wide crew that pulls aside, over the tank.

This is the top I reach for on the days when I have nothing to say to the mirror. It says it for me. Nine more ways to wear the three pieces this came from are on the blog.

From the capsules

The Year Round Capsule

Two hundred nursing-friendly outfits from fifty-six pieces, fifty for every season, laid out and then worn. $29 once, yours to keep.

See the capsule →

4. A wrap top in burgundy

Every capsule has a wrap, because a wrap opens at the front without a button and ties where your waist is this week. In fall I make it burgundy: it is the one colour that looks like autumn on purpose, and against a tired face it does what rose does in summer.

Burgundy wrap, dark jeans, taupe cardigan, ankle boots. That is the outfit for the person who is coming round, the appointment, the first dinner out. Untie at the side, feed, retie.

5. A taupe longline cardigan

The cardigan is the fall coat for the first six weeks of the season and the plane blanket for the rest of the year. Longline, so it covers the hips you are not sure about yet; fine knit, so it goes under a real coat later; taupe, so it belongs to every colour here.

Worn open it is a feeding cover on a bench. Buttoned to the middle it comes off with one hand. Nine winter outfits around one long cardigan show how far it goes.

6. A chunky knit in ivory

One real jumper, in a pale colour, for the cold days. The trick for feeding is the shape, not the fabric: a chunky knit with a wide neck or a slight crop lifts from the hem over the clip tank, and the volume on top balances a body that is still carrying more through the middle.

Ivory near your face is kind after a night of three wake-ups. It is the piece in this list most likely to get a stain, and it is still the piece I would not give up.

7. Dark straight-leg jeans, one size up

Not the jeans from before. Not yet, maybe not ever, and that is allowed. A dark straight leg in the size that fits today, with a bit of stretch, a mid rise that sits above the scar and a waistband that does not roll. Buy them in the size you are, cut the label out if you need to, and stop negotiating with them.

Dark denim goes with every top here and hides what the day does. Ten outfits around one pair of straight-leg jeans if you want to see how hard they work.

8. Taupe wide-leg trousers with a soft waist

The second bottom is the kinder one. Wide, soft waistband, a fabric with some weight so it hangs rather than clings. These are the trousers for the days when jeans feel like an argument. With the henley they look like you work somewhere; with the chunky knit they look like a Sunday.

Taupe rather than black, because black trousers and a pale knit in autumn light looks like a uniform, and taupe looks like a decision.

9. A navy midi skirt

One skirt, because some days you want to feel like a woman rather than a pair of jeans. A pull-on midi in a soft jersey or a fluid fabric, with an elastic waist that sits where you need it. Navy so it takes every top above.

Midi skirt, striped tee, cardigan, boots. It is the easiest dressed-up outfit in this capsule and it opens exactly as well as the jeans do, because the opening is all in the top.

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10. A trench or light wool coat

The coat is the piece you feed under, so it needs to open fully at the front and be soft enough to drape over a baby’s head. A classic trench for the first half of fall, a light wool coat for the second, in camel or navy. Long enough to sit on at the park.

If you are buying one coat for the whole year, this is how I would think about it.

11. Flat ankle boots

The fall shoe. Flat, because you are carrying a person; a boot, because it is cold; ankle, because it goes with the jeans, the trousers and the skirt without changing anything. Chestnut or black. I walk the baby to sleep in mine most afternoons.

The second shoe is still the white sneaker from summer. Between them they carry all thirty outfits.

12. A large soft scarf

The scarf is the fall version of the summer stripe: cover for a feed, blanket for the pram, the thing that finishes jeans and a tee. Large, soft, in a print that pulls the colours together (navy, burgundy, taupe, a little ivory). One is enough.

Twelve pieces, two shoes, one coat. Together they make thirty outfits for the season, and I laid every one of them out and then put it on a body in the Year Round Capsule, where fall alone is fifty outfits and every note says how it opens.

The fog lifted for me slowly, with help, and I will not pretend a wardrobe did that. What a wardrobe did was give me one part of the morning that worked. On the days when I could not decide anything, the rail decided for me: tank, henley, jeans, cardigan, boots, done. There is dignity in a small system when everything else is loud.

If you want the thirty outfits laid out so you can copy one tonight, the Year Round Capsule has the fall section ready, with three pictures of you in it on the house. If you want someone to simply tell you what to wear each cold morning, that is Anah inside the Atelier, and she learns your closet rather than mine. If you are not sure whether your autumn colour is burgundy or rust, the Colour Season Quiz takes two minutes and it is free.

I am a mom of three and I have never gone back to the body I had before the first one. I dress on purpose now, in twelve pieces that open under a coat. It is a small thing. It is also the thing I would hand to any mama standing in a hallway in a four-day hoodie.