Mylo Cloth Diapers

I got into Mylo diapers when my youngest started shooting up like a beanpole, and what sold me was their sizing flexibility. Mylo tends to offer a few clear options: a true newborn/small size for the first weeks (usually tailored to tiny 2.5–6 kg newborns), a one-size adjustable option that fits most babies as they grow (commonly covering roughly 3–15 kg thanks to rise snaps), and sometimes a bigger/toddler size or extender pieces for heavier toddlers who still need cloth. The one-size models are the workhorses—multiple rows of snaps let you go from tiny to tall without buying a new diaper every month.

Fit matters more than the label: use the lowest rise snaps for newborn chubbiness and the highest for longer-leaner babies, and add or remove absorbent inserts for overnight or daytime. If you see leaks at the legs or back, it’s usually a fit issue or you need to add an insert rather than a size change. Personally I mixed newborn-specific diapers for the first 6–8 weeks, then “graduated” to the one-size after that transition—saved money and the stash stayed compact. It’s been a practical, almost satisfying little system to watch my kid grow into the snaps.

I get asked this one by fellow parents and eco-minded friends more than I thought I would, and I love chewing on the pros and cons. My take: Mylo cloth diapers are generally more eco-friendly than disposables, but the real win depends on how you use them. Cloth cuts the mountain of waste that disposables create — those single-use diapers pile up and can take centuries to break down in landfills. If you use Mylo cloth for multiple kids, or buy them secondhand and hand them down, that lifecycle advantage grows substantially.

That said, cloth isn’t impact-free. Washing, drying, and the materials used to make the diapers matter. I wash on cold or warm, run full loads, use a gentle eco-friendly detergent, and line-dry when I can. Those little habits shrink the environmental footprint a lot. Also consider how long the diapers last and whether the brand uses organic or low-impact fabrics. For me, the combo of reduced landfill waste and reusability makes Mylo cloth feel worth the initial effort — it’s messy sometimes, but I sleep better knowing we’re not contributing to a disposable mountain.

I get excited talking about diapers because testing them feels like a tiny science project that actually makes life easier. In my experience, Mylo cloth diapers are thoughtfully designed: the pocket style with a microfiber inner and a removable bamboo or hemp insert soaks up fluid quickly and spreads it out to avoid leaks. In real-world naps and daytime play, a single Mylo insert usually handled two to three hours for my toddler without that wet-skin feel, and when I doubled up with a hemp booster for naps the stretch lasted longer. I also did the usual squeeze-and-press check after they were used — Mylo generally had less rewet than cheap prefolds, thanks to the inner layers wicking moisture away from the skin.

I pay attention to overnight performance because that’s where most diapers get judged. Mylo can be overnight-ready if you add a heavy hemp or bamboo booster and tweak the fit; otherwise it’s more of a daytime/nap champion. Maintenance-wise, they hold up well to regular washing but do tighten a bit after a few cycles, so I sized up earlier than I thought I would. Personally, I love the balance of absorbency and slim fit — it’s not a bulky sleepless-night solution by itself, but with simple boosting it becomes one, and the natural fibers feel nicer than disposables against baby skin. Overall, my takeaway is that Mylo performs reliably as a reusable system once you experiment with inserts and wash routines, and it saved me a lot of midnight diaper runs once I dialed it in.

I've used Mylo cloth diapers through different seasons with two kids, and I can say they genuinely cut down on diaper rash when used right.

The fabric Mylo uses is breathable and often organic cotton, which helps keep air flowing instead of trapping humidity next to the skin. That alone reduces the warm, damp environment that yeast and bacteria love. Add a well-fitted insert and frequent changes, and you remove the main causes of rashes: prolonged wetness and ammonia buildup. I also liked pairing them with a thin, disposable liner on messy days — it makes cleanup quicker and keeps the cloth fresher.

Laundry matters as much as the diaper. No fabric softener, thorough rinses, and the right detergent make a huge difference. If I ever saw irritation, I did extra rinses, sun-dried the diapers when possible (sun is a natural sanitizer), and swapped to a milder detergent for a week. Bottom line: Mylo diapers aren't magic, but they give you a breathable, comfortable base to prevent rash if you pay attention to fit, changes, and washing. They worked well for my kids and felt kinder to their skin.

if you ask whether Mylo cloth diapers are better for a newborn's skin than disposables, my quick feeling is: often, yes — but with big caveats. Cloth made from natural fibers (brands like Mylo tend to use bamboo or organic cotton blends) can feel softer, breathe better, and avoid the fragrances, dyes, and some of the chemical absorbers that irritate sensitive newborn skin. For a baby with eczema or especially reactive skin, the gentler, chemical-free surface can reduce redness and chafing. Cloth also means fewer trapped wetness against the skin if you change frequently, and I noticed less heat rash in the summer when I used cloth more often.

That said, cloth isn't automatically magical. It requires diligent laundering with a gentle, fragrance-free detergent and good rinses so detergent residue doesn't build up and provoke irritation. The newborn phase has lots of diaper changes and meconium messes, so disposables can feel lifesaving on nights out or when sleep is short. For me, a hybrid approach worked best: cloth at home for skin and temperature care, disposables on long days or trips. Overall, Mylo-style cloth felt kinder to my baby’s skin, but the practical balance matters — and I still reach for a disposable when I’m running on empty.

I get a little excited talking about routines that actually work, and with Mylo cloth diapers I treat it like a tiny ritual that keeps my house smelling fresh. First, I store dirty diapers in a dry pail or wet bag if I’ll be washing within 24–36 hours; if it’s going to sit longer I dunk them briefly in cold water or use a sealed container so they don’t sour. For the wash cycle I do a cold rinse with no detergent to remove pee and loosen gunk, then a hot main wash (I aim for 50–60°C / 120–140°F depending on my machine and the fabric care) with a cloth-safe detergent — one without fragrances, optical brighteners, or softeners. I use the amount recommended for a heavily soiled load but dial it back if I have soft water.

After the main wash I run an extra rinse to make sure no soap remains; residue equals odor later. For stubborn smells I occasionally add an oxygen-based booster (sodium percarbonate) to the hot wash or do a targeted strip following the manufacturer’s guidance — usually a few rounds with a scoop of non-chlorine booster and extra rinses until the water runs clear. I avoid bleach except as a very occasional sanitizing rescue and never use fabric softener or dryer sheets because they trap oils and make stink worse.

Sunlight is my secret weapon: line-drying in direct sun naturally bleaches and neutralizes odors, and even five hours of sunshine makes a huge difference. For elastics and covers I prefer air-drying indoors or a short low-heat tumble to preserve fit. It’s a few steps, but once you get the rhythm, Mylo diapers smell clean, last longer, and I actually enjoy the little victory of a fresh stack of nappies — feels oddly satisfying every time.