Why I’ve decided to use cloth nappies

cloth nappy covers

This is a rather presumptuous post, given that we’re still months away from D-day and I’ve literally never changed a nappy in my life. Nevertheless, I’m strangely confident, thanks to the time I’ve spent learning the difference between a flat and all-in-one. I’ve already bought a small stash of various kinds of reusable cloth nappies (diapers to my North American friends).

You might have assumed reusable nappies would be a forgone conclusion for a waste reduction fanatic like myself. Truly, I’m not a martyr. My decision to go with cloth nappies didn’t happen without some trepidation.

In the beginning, I was afraid…

I didn’t know anything about cloth nappies, let alone nappies (let alone babies), except that disposables contaminate our apartment building’s yellow lidded recycling bin with alarming frequency. And boy do they stink. So while I knew nothing about reusables, I knew I categorically disliked disposables.

And yet… reusable nappies? Wouldn’t that be gross? And so the research began.

My initial fears around cloth nappies soon gave way to horror, but at the toileting habits of children, full stop. The pace of changes is absurd. Thrice in ten minutes anyone?True story. The way new parents casually talk about poo is disconcerting. But if you don’t want to change nappies, and never talk about bodily functions, don’t have kids. No nappy can save you, disposable or otherwise, for the 4,000 to 6,000 nappy changes a child will need by the age of two and a half years. And yet, as a friend of mine, a new mom, helpfully reminded me, changing a nappy is one of the easier chores, ha.

Why it made sense to go with cloth nappies.

Disposable nappies are in the news for all the wrong reasons, like this or this. We all hate ’em! Yet 95% of Aussies will use them on their children, sending a collective 2 billion disposable nappies to landfill a year. Ironically, if you mention reusables, reactions can range from dismissiveness to disgust. As I’ve learned with root canals, the biggest fear mongering comes from those without first hand experience.

Lifecycle analysis is tricky and beyond my capabilities. Disposables have an enormous landfill and plastic footprint, while cloth nappies use water and pesticides for fibre growing and washing, plus laundry detergents. Government resources and studies favour reusables, while disposable nappy producers claim disposables are not so bad. Go figure. I won’t claim that reusables are perfect, but I am persuaded by the following:

  • A lot less plastic is being produced and sent to landfill with cloth.
  • Human waste should be sent through sewerage for treatment rather than to landfill. Although the contents of disposable nappies are meant to be rinsed or put in the toilet before being tossed, who is actually doing this? I reckon disposables wouldn’t seem so convenient if used responsibly.
  • Disposables labeled as ‘environmentally friendly’ that ‘break down in landfill’ conveniently ignore how landfills work. If the fibres are breaking down, so is the human waste, creating methane. And although it’s technically possible to recycle nappies and sanitary products, it doesn’t seem like this is economically viable in Australia. So when it comes to ‘eco’ disposables, my reaction is, why even bother?
  • Reusables can be passed along, sold or reused for a second child, meaning a stash of a few dozen reusables could save 12,000 disposables from landfill (and another few thousand dollars).
  • I’d prefer to tuck $3,000 into an interest accruing savings account for the little one than throw the same money in the trash. Even though Aldi may promote $0.14 a nappy, it’s pennywise, pound foolish over the long term.
  • Disposables are smellier and leakier than cloth, say many people with experience using both types. If your kid soils their clothing thanks to a leaky disposable, you’re doing ‘cloth’ laundry anyway.
  • We’re adding a (drooly, messy) human to the mix. There will be more laundry no matter what. Luckily, my machine does the washing and all I do is push some buttons, feed it detergent and hang the load to dry. Truly, do we ever appreciate running water and modern washing machines as much as we ought to?
  • With a child in tow, I imagine doing laundry at home will be an easier task than a trip to the shops to buy more disposables.
  • We have a good laundry set up with a relatively new, front loading washing machine that we can program for overnight and eco cycle washing. Plus, a nifty solar powered dryer (yes, I’m simply referring to the almighty sun shining down on the clothesline).
  • You can repurpose old tea towels and tee shirts as extra ‘booster’ inserts. Or conversely, you can repurpose old nappy inserts as cleaning rags.
  • I’ve been using reusable period products for years, including cloth, and I would never go back. I’m convinced of their effectiveness.

Worn out cloth nappies will eventually need to be disposed, but a couple dozen nappies after heavy use seems a pittance next to 6000 – 12,000 disposable nappies. Yes?

Which is the best cloth nappy system?

Choosing a type of nappy system to use was overwhelming, but mostly because of all the strange new terminology (MCN, boosters, doublers, prefolds, OSFM, packet, AI2, soakers, flats, etc.) that I promise eventually makes sense. Most of these are different words for the same things.

cloth nappies

Ultimately nappies are pointless unless they are two things: absorbent and waterproof. We can achieve this in a number of ways, without the super absorbent polymers that are the norm in all disposable nappies. In the simplest terms, the options for reusable nappies are:

Flats: large, absorbent ‘flat’ sheets, often terry towel, folded in smaller origami shapes and fastened onto the baby with a snappy thingy, then covered with a waterproof cover, either a plastic coated fabric (PUL) or lanolinised wool. They are usually the cheapest option and the one your grandmother would recognise.

Prefolds: A more modern take on flats. The difference is that the absorbent insert is ‘pre-folded’ and stitched to a smaller size. Prefolds require less folding before fastening on the baby and putting on the waterproof cover. Many moms say they are useful for getting a good fit on newborns who may not yet fit a larger one size nappy.

All-in-ones and pocket styles: These nappies look most like disposables, meaning the absorbent layer is either stuffed, snapped or permanently sewn into the outer shell before putting on the child. They are usually the most expensive option, but are often favoured for carer settings, as they are the most obvious type of reusable nappy for a newbie to figure out. These are sold in sized or one size fits most (OSFM) styles with rise snaps on the front so the nappy can grow with the kid.

Keep in mind that most cloth nappies fall somewhere along this spectrum rather than neatly into one category. Which is actually great, because it means there’s a style to suit every preference and budget.

At first I assumed an all-in-one nappy would be easiest, since I was very focused on ease at the time of changing. Flats and prefolds looked too complicated. This changed when I found the Facebook groups. I read comments from other posters and once I knew the terminology better, searched for specific threads about brands, styles and issues. I started to be able to visualise the process in more detail and came to the conclusion that ‘ease’ should encompass how effective the style is to contain the goods and to launder, not just how easy it is to get the nappy on the kid. Flats and prefolds are valued for quicker drying times, modularity and low cost.

I asked friends and family for their advice. Two of my sisters in law have toddlers in nearly full time cloth nappies. My dear friend who is both a midwife and waste reduction enthusiast shared her insights from lending her nappy library to new moms. My takeaways are that whatever the style you choose, it’s all very doable, and there is no universal favourite style. It will depend on your baby, your support system, your living situation, your tolerance for folding/stuffing, and preferences around materials to use. You will find parents raving about every possible option and brand, and that’s because I’m sure they all work. Just like a reusable grocery bag, the best one is the one you use.

cloth nappies
The inserts lineup – a wide range of options.

I bought a variety of styles, including several different types of prefolds with covers, plus all in one pocket style nappies. I didn’t buy any flats. I also bought a selection of different brands to test the fit. I’ll see what I prefer and then sell or pass along what doesn’t work for us. I have been working to the assumption that I should have around 30 cloth nappies to be able to wash every second day and allowing for drying time.

Some advice from a cloth nappy newbie

Start early, take your time and don’t panic

If you have the luxury, do your research before the baby is born to let it all sink in. If you can, visit a physical shop with a few different styles or take a 101 workshop – check with your council or the Australian Nappy Association for local events. Many nappy brands look similar online and don’t give a great image or a clear description of the interior insert configuration. In that scenario, you may end up impulse buying based on the prints rather than the function.

Find support

Not everyone will have close friends or family with cloth nappy experience, or even willing partners. Luckily, helpful strangers have created safe spaces and deep knowledge bases around cloth nappies online. I’ve found the following to be excellent resources:

Figure out what ease means to you

Your definition of ease may be different to mine, but at minimum, think beyond the moment of changing to how you will wash and dry, if you’ll have help, and how much you want to spend.

Don’t think of it as all or nothing

Perfect is the enemy of better. If you have to use disposables some or all the time for travel, carers, sick or disabled children, or other situations, I’m not here to make you feel bad about it. Many people that I know who do cloth are ‘mostly cloth’. Some start from birth, others wait a few weeks or months to get to know the ropes of being a new parent before diving in to cloth.

Cloth nappies, the new (old fashioned) normal?

You can buy disposables nearly everywhere today, including the grocery store, but you’ll only find reusables if you’re looking for them. Maybe surprisingly, reusables were the norm not so long ago. My Australian partner was in cloth nappies, as were many of his generation. Disposables were used occasionally, but too expensive for full time. It’s probably true that their mothers weren’t also juggling dual career households in expensive Sydney. It’s a different social landscape when both parents need to earn an income and there is still all the labour to contend with in the home. But that’s why it’s especially nice when there is an option available that can reduce costs significantly over the long term – money saved is hours of the day we don’t have to spend working outside the home. Let’s also remember that the pervasive unequal distribution of household chores in dual parent households is so much bigger than nappies. Disposables haven’t managed to crack that nut anyway.

When I started looking into cloth, one of the unconscious assumptions I’d made was that of course disposables would be more effective and pleasant to use than cloth. I had the impression I’d be suffering through cloth. Even mainstream articles seem to imply that cloth is cute but less effective, which I suspect is the writer’s lack of first hand experience coming through. Because nothing could be further from the accounts of thousands of parents in the Facebook groups I’ve mentioned earlier. People who have experience with both styles frequently comment on how smelly and leaky disposables are.

I’ll give an update after I’ve actually used the nappies. The best laid plans right? If you’ve used cloth or are thinking about it, I’d love to hear your experience, whether good or bad.

The lazy way to make reusable makeup remover cloths

zero waste eye makeup remover pads

We humans tend to criticize laziness as a character flaw.

I however, believe selective laziness can be useful. Case in point – if you’re moving to reusables for makeup removal, there’s no need to buy anything new or use a sewing machine. The lazy way is to cut one very old tee shirt into squares and store in an old jar in the bathroom, unhemmed. I’d love to learn how to sew, but that’s apartment space and a skill set I don’t have.

To remove makeup, I usually rub a few drops of coconut or jojoba oil (check the bulk page for tips on where to source in Sydney) into my face and eye area with clean fingers. Then I wipe clean with one of the squares wetted with warm tap water. Used wipes go into a small container that doubles as a pre-soak vessel. I soak the dirty wipes in hot soapy water to lift some of the grime before I add them to a towel wash.

zero waste eye makeup remover pads

zero waste eye makeup remover pads

Why not just use normal facecloths?

I sometimes do, but they’re larger than I need for the minimal makeup I wear – mostly just mascara, liner and concealer. I don’t love reusing the same towel over the course of several evenings since terrycloth is too thick to dry from sopping wet and all I can think of is bacterial growth.The smaller squares of cut tee shirt fabric have the perfect amount of surface area to clean my face, and using them instead of facecloths has a side benefit of reducing towel laundry.

zero waste eye makeup remover pads

What about those cute fluffy makeup remover rounds you can buy?

Buying new fluffy white cotton pads to repeatedly wipe dark substances off your face makes as much sense as a bike mechanic wearing a white tee-shirt. Why make life difficult? My pile of not-white-anymore cloths works best for me.

From makeup wipe, to cleaning cloth, to the compost

When they eventually become too grimy even for my face, I use them for even grubbier tasks, like dusting ledges or houseplant foliage or polishing shoes. If it’s cotton fabric and I’m not using them with any chemicals I wouldn’t want in my soil (I use vinegar, castile soap and bi carb), I can eventually compost the rags. I wouldn’t do this with blends or synthetics though.

Textile recycling isn’t an actual thing (yet)

While there are some potential benefits to what retailers like H&M and Uniqlo are doing to offer clothing collection boxes into their stores, the reality of all the research and development so far is that we’re far from a place where textiles can be recycled. It’s more accurate to categorize this process as clothing ‘down-cycling. It’s the same as most other collection donation services – a portion of what is useful and clean is sold in-country, more is sent abroad to be sold or burned, and what can’t be sold might be turned into industrial rags. We can do better by buying less to begin with, using our clothing longer and downcycling at home. My tee shirt can be demoted from being worn outside the home to sleepwear, and only then to rag.

zero waste eye makeup remover pads

It’s good to be lazy sometimes

What we buy is inexorably connected to what we throw away, so I’m fascinated by the many ways that we can enrich our lives without buying a thing, or by simply reframing waste as treasure. Less stuff to buy means less chasing our tails to earn money to try to afford what we don’t need anyway. More time to laze about with friends, in the kitchen, and in the garden. Ironically, frugality – not buying new things – is what can help us live more full lives.

How to upcycle ugly, wax-covered candle jars

I took in a pile of candle jars that someone had cast aside. Where others saw trash, I saw an upcycling opportunity.  

Saving old wax-covered candle jars from landfill

The first step in making these eyesores useable was to clean up the waxy goo, and de-uglify them. As you can see, there was plenty of wax remaining in each one.

I used an old razor blade from my safety razor spent pile to scrape away the exterior labelling from the smooth glass.

To get the wax off candle jars use heat or cold. One trick is to put the container in the freezer to encourage the wax to harden, contract, and pull away from the edge. It’ll make the wax easier to chip off. I think it depends what kind of wax you’re working with.

It didn’t work for me here, so instead I placed them on a tray in an oven on low heat. When the wax had softened, I scraped it out and then wiped with an old rag. As I’m not sure what kinds of chemicals were used for the candles, any chunks of wax remnants went in my landfill container. The last step was to wipe the jars with some homemade vinegar all purpose cleaner until each one had nice shiny glass.

Ways to upcycle old candle jars

And now for the fun part. There are plenty of uses for clean, de-waxed old candle jars, aside from the obvious possibility of reusing to make your own candles. Here are a few things I did and you could too:

Use as a planter for succulents

There is no drainage, so water minimally, or add some rocks to the bottom before you add soil to keep roots from suffocating. Succulents and cacti are a great choice because they barely need watering.

Use as a container for rags

These rags are made from a worn out tee shirt, cut up into small pieces. I use these plus a small bit of coconut oil to remove eye makeup at the end of the day.

Store looseleaf tea

This candle jar can with an airtight lid, so I use it for storing looseleaf tea. You could store anything in it though.

Your turn, what would you do with old candle jars?

My name is Liz, and I’m a freegan.

Free philodendron

It’s crazy what some people throw away.

It’s hardly a secret that I’ve spent a lot of time combing through other people’s garbage. I can’t stop myself from excitedly telling everyone about my finds.

Sometimes it’s part of a clean up effort. Other times it’s roadside, in piles left out for council cleanup. In the latter case, I know there will be treasures amongst the discards.

And I do find the most useful things. Stools, bedside tables, laundry racks (two, matching, from separate junk piles), bookshelves, a drafting table, a hat, a mirror, tent pegs, plant pots, plants, etc. I’ve managed to furnish my apartment almost entirely with secondhand (and often free) pieces.

I once carried two long IKEA birch floating shelves about a kilometre from where they lay back to my place, then up three flights of stairs. They are not light. With the addition of two cinder blocks, they now form an ideal side table / bookshelf / plant display. IKEA hack indeed.

Why do I do this? It’s not that I can’t afford to buy new things. I am very much privileged, not poor.

I am a freegan because:

  1. Much of what is thrown away is simply not junk.
  2. I can’t bear the thought of useful things going to landfill.

Found this hat washed up on the beach shortly after arriving in Sydney. Just what I was looking for – a beater hat for running. In fairness, someone probably lost this while wearing it surfing.

We’re not only consumers, we’re landfillers.

We already know that as a society, we are hyper-consumers. Buying more than we can use or enjoy is already silly and wasteful. It’s just a whole extra layer of psychosis to be landfilling Things all the time only to replace them with more Things just like them.

Some of us have more than our fair share by luck, not virtue. When we don’t steward our goods into an appropriate recycling or reuse stream, we abuse the privilege.

The production inputs of a thing are not actually a sunk cost if they contribute to one fewer new thing being produced that didn’t need to exist.

If something is no longer useful to us, we need to make it available to others.

It’s why secondhand shops work – many people can use and will regularly pay for used goods. Me included. A significant amount of my wardrobe is from Vinnie’s, Salvo’s, or clothing swaps with friends. I’ve even been described as well-dressed on occasion! A small proportion of what I wear has been indefinitely borrowed from sisters 😉

I still buy some things new, in case you’re wondering. Toothbrushes, helmets, and a few other things are best in new condition. I just make secondhand my first choice in as many ways that I can, including clothing and homewares.

Closing the loop on Zero Waste.

When you are living with the intention of generating as little waste as possible, it becomes psychologically difficult to buy things that you don’t think will last, or don’t know how to reuse, recycle, or rot. Making use of what others are trashing is one way to close the loop and be the change that the circular economy requires.