I said this to myself in the hottest week after my third: “It is too hot to wear anything, and nothing I own opens anyway.” That was my whole summer after my third baby. I had a newborn on me most of the day, a toddler who wanted to be carried the moment I sat down, and an older one who needed snacks, sunscreen and a mother who looked like she was coping. I was wearing the same two nursing tanks on rotation, both stained, and I had stopped looking in the mirror on purpose.
Somewhere in the middle of that summer I noticed the children had new swimsuits, new sandals and a sun hat each, and I had bought nothing for myself since the hospital. Not because money was the problem. Because it had not occurred to me that I counted. That was the summer I started building a small set of clothes that worked for the body I actually had, instead of waiting for a body I might get back one day.
This is that set, twelve pieces, tidied up after three postpartum summers. Everything opens for a feed or pulls aside for a pump. Everything washes. Nothing has a waistband that sits on a scar. And every piece goes with every other piece, which is the part that actually saves you at seven in the morning. If you already own half of it, good. Shop your drawers first; that is the whole point of a capsule.

1. Two clip-down nursing tanks, one ivory and one navy
The tank is the floor the whole summer stands on. A clip-down nursing tank goes under every shirt and every dress in this list, so when you open a button or untie a wrap there is still something between you and the world. Two colours is enough: a pale one for under pale things, a dark one that hides a leak.
I want the straps wide enough to hold a soft wireless nursing bra underneath and the hem long enough to cover a high waistband. The ones that ride up over a postpartum middle are the ones that make you tug all day, and tugging is what makes you feel self-conscious. If you buy one new thing from this whole list, buy the tanks.
2. A linen button-front shirt in white
Linen because it is the only fabric that is honest about heat. A white one because it goes over both tanks, over the shorts, over the dress as a cover-up, and looks like you meant it even with the sleeves rolled and spit-up on the shoulder.
For a feed you undo three buttons from the top and pull the side back; the tank underneath does the rest. It is also the piece that makes a nursing tank and shorts look like an outfit at the school gate rather than something you slept in.
3. A wrap top in dusty rose
Every capsule I build has one wrap top, because a wrap opens at the front without a single button and ties exactly where your waist is today, not where it was last month. Dusty rose is the colour that makes a tired face look rested; I learned that by accident and I have never let it go.
Worn with the linen trousers it is the outfit for someone coming round. Worn with the shorts it is the outfit for the park. Untie at the side, fold one half back, feed, retie. Nobody notices.

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.
4. A striped V-neck tee
One stripe in the capsule does the work of three plain tops because it is the thing that looks deliberate. A V-neck lifts from the hem or pulls aside, and over the clip tank either is quick.
Mine is ivory and navy so it belongs to both tanks. I wore it on every plane and every long car journey of that summer, which is also why it is in the Travel Capsule.
5. Taupe linen trousers with a soft waist
Wide, cool, and they forgive. The waistband is elastic at the back and flat at the front, so it sits above the scar and does not roll down under a belly that is still deciding what it is. Taupe rather than white, because white linen trousers and a leaking newborn is a decision you will regret by ten.
These are the trousers that turn a tank into an outfit. Tank and these for the house, add the linen shirt open for the shop, add the wrap top instead for lunch out. Three outfits, one pair of trousers.
6. Navy walking shorts
Not short shorts. A walking short that hits above the knee, with a stretch waistband, in navy so it goes with everything above and hides everything below. I lived in these on the hot days when the trousers were too much, with the striped tee and the sneakers, a pram in front of me and a toddler holding the side of it.
If shorts make you nervous after a baby, start with these. The length is kind, the waist is soft, and the colour is quiet. There are ten more ways to wear a pair of shorts while nursing if you want to see them on a body.

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.
7. A button-front midi dress in navy
One dress that buttons all the way down the front is the most useful thing a breastfeeding mama can own in summer. Undo from the top for a feed; undo from the bottom to walk; wear it open over the tank and shorts as a long shirt on the beach. Three garments in one hanger.
A midi length because it covers the legs you are not ready to show and still catches the breeze. Navy because it is the dinner dress, the christening dress and the Tuesday dress without changing anything but the shoes.
8. A wrap midi dress in dusty blue
The second dress wraps rather than buttons, so on the hottest day there is one piece between you and the air and it still opens at the front. The tie means it fits at four weeks and at four months. Dusty blue is the one colour in this capsule that is not a neutral, and one is enough.
It is the dress for the wedding you said yes to before the baby came: you can feed in it at the table without leaving the room. If you have one coming, these are the dresses I would look at.
9. A fine-knit ivory cardigan
Summer has air conditioning, evening gardens and that one cold cafe. A fine cardigan in ivory lives in the bag, goes over everything above, and doubles as a feeding cover on a bench and a blanket on a plane. Buttoned to the middle only, so it comes on and off with one hand.
I would rather have one good light cardigan than three cute jackets I never carry. Nine more ways to wear a long cardigan are here if you want the full argument.

Free · paste a screenshot
Can you feed in it? Ask before you buy.
Paste a screenshot of any top, dress or jumpsuit from any shop and Will it feed? tells you if you can nurse or pump in it, how, and what to wear instead if not. One free look a day, three more with your email.
Honest and kind. It has looked at thousands of garments.
10. White walking sneakers
The shoe for every day of it. Clean, flat, with enough sole for the long walk that gets the baby to sleep. White because it lifts navy and taupe and makes shorts look like an outfit. I replace mine every summer and do not feel bad about it; they earn it.
If you only have two pairs of shoes this summer, make the second a pair of taupe sandals you can walk in. Together they carry all thirty of the outfits below.
11. A crossbody bag in espresso
Hands free, or you will be putting the baby down to find your phone. A crossbody in a warm dark leather or faux leather goes with every colour here and looks grown up with the dress. The changing bag can be the big one; this is the one for you.
I keep the Will it feed list in my head now, but in those first months the bag held the pads, the wipes and the one lipstick that made me feel like a person.
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.
12. A striped cotton scarf
The quietest piece and the hardest working. It is a feeding cover when you want one, a blanket on the plane, a shoulder cover in church, and the thing that makes the tank and trousers look finished. Ivory and navy stripe, so it belongs to everything.
Twelve pieces, two shoes, one bag. Mix them and you get thirty outfits without trying; I laid every one out and then put it on a body in the Year Round Capsule, where the summer section is fifty outfits deep and every one says how it opens.
I want to say one thing before you go and look at your drawers. The reason getting dressed is hard right now is not that you have let yourself go. It is that you are feeding a human every two hours in thirty-degree heat, with a body that changes week to week, in clothes that were never designed to open. That is a design problem, not a you problem. A small set of pieces that all work together is how I solved it, three times.
If you want to see all of this on a body, including yours, the Year Round Capsule has the summer outfits laid out and worn, and three pictures of you in them are on the house. If you want someone to just tell you what to put on tomorrow, that is what Anah does every morning inside the Atelier. And if you want to start with something free, First Look reads your colouring from one photo so you know whether your rose is dusty or bright before you buy anything.
I am not the same as I was before any of my three. I dress on purpose now, in twelve pieces that open, and that one small thing changed more about my summers than I knew it could. 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.

