Twenty families, a year of nappies.

We're a tiny Australian nappy brand out of Bendigo. We launched in August. You've almost certainly never heard of us, which is fair enough.

Here's the deal. Every month we send you a box of nappies and wipes in whatever size your baby is up to. You use them on your actual baby, in your actual house. Then you write us a review on our site, in your own words, and you put up a couple of posts a month. About the nappies, the wipes, your week, your baby, whatever you feel like. We are not after polished. A story on a bad morning, a photo taken with one hand, thirty seconds of a change that did not go to plan. If it looks like an ad we have both got it wrong. We are not going to tell you what to post about either. Life being life, some months you will manage one and some months four, and nobody is counting. Just tag us so we can find it, and add us as a collaborator if you're on Instagram, which puts the post on our page as well as yours and takes two taps. We'll show you how.

That's it. No script, no shot list, nobody sending you a mood board at 9pm. If we wanted an ad we'd go and make an ad.

And along the way, tell us what to fix. We're not finished with these and the next version is genuinely shaped by what comes back from the twenty families taking part. There's a whole section on that further down, because it's the part we'd care about most if we were the one reading this.

Twenty families. Twelve months.

Because nappies are a bill. They turn up every month whether payday was kind or not, sitting somewhere between the phone and the power.

Take that off a family for a year and you get a very different sort of yes. People chasing a prize enter competitions. People who want the nappy bill gone actually go through the cartons, and six months in they've got something real to say.

That's who we're after. Someone who's still here next winter, with an opinion.

A box a month, twelve months. Nappies or nappy pants in the size you're actually on, plus wipes. It turns up at your door and there's nothing to pay, not for the nappies and not for getting them to you. We post anywhere in Australia.

Monthly rather than one big drop every few months, because babies are wildly inconsiderate about sizing. A carton of size 2 is no use to anybody once your bub has moved to size 3, and we'd rather not fill your garage with a size you've finished with.

So we check in before every box. That's the one thing we need from you on any sort of schedule. We message, you tell us what size you're on, the right box goes out. A reply is all it takes, and we won't send five cartons off to a size we're guessing at.

Taped nappies, pants, or one and then the other. Sizes 1 to 5 in taped, 3 to 6 in pants. Swap whenever you like, just say so at the check-in.

And if you run short, tell us and we'll send more. Once in the year, that one's on us.

We want a real review, not a good one.

If they don't work for your baby, say so. Out loud, on our own site, with your name on it. We'll be a bit sad, but we'll cope.

And here's the bit worth being precise about, because “your boxes keep coming either way” is exactly the sort of thing a brand says and doesn't mean. We will never stop your boxes because of something you said. You might stop them, because who wants a year of nappies they don't rate, and that takes one message and no explanation. But the stopping is yours to do. It is not a thing that happens to you quietly after a review we didn't enjoy.

There's no such thing as a nappy that suits every baby, and we're not going to pretend otherwise. If ours aren't the ones for yours, we'd rather hear why than not hear at all. Telling us is the useful thing, not the awkward thing.

A four-star review saying the tabs are annoying and size 4 runs small is worth more to us than a polite one, and it's worth more to whoever's reading it at 11pm trying to work out what to buy.

Calling it off is one message. No notice, no explanation, no hard feelings, nothing owed in either direction. We'd still like to know what went wrong, but you don't owe us that either.

This isn't a commercial influencer job. Nobody is managing you. There's no brief, no approval queue, no reporting and no one checking your numbers. It's twenty families using nappies on their own babies and saying what actually happened, which only works at all if what you say is true.

There's no deadline on the review and no due date. Write it when you've actually got something to say, which is usually about six weeks in. We'll ask once, we'll ask one more time, and then we'll leave you alone about it.

One thing the review does need, and it's a single line at the top: “Little Puggles send me product as part of their creator programme.” Then say whatever you actually think. Same rule as a post, same reason, and it's the bit that makes a five-star review worth reading.

Every nappy on a shelf somewhere is a version two. Ours will be too, and the next one gets better because of what comes back from the people actually using this one. This is the part of the arrangement we care most about.

So the review matters. But the thing we're greedier for is the detail underneath it, and we'd like to hear it regularly rather than once at the end.

What we're after is your story, really, and how Little Puggles does or doesn't fit into it. How the nappies go. How the wipes go, which people forget to mention and we care about just as much. What you love, if anything, and what you don't. What annoyed you at 3am. Where the fit went odd as they grew. Which size ran small. What you wish came in the box and doesn't.

And how we are to deal with. Whether the box turned up when we said it would, whether the size check was a nuisance, whether an email took too long to answer, whether anything about ordering from us is more annoying than it needs to be. The service is as much the product as the nappy is, and it's the half nobody ever tells a brand about until they've already left.

An email is plenty. A voice note, a few lines, a photo of the thing you're describing with an arrow drawn on it, whatever's quickest while it's fresh. A photo of what went wrong is worth a page of explaining and we'd rather have the photo.

We want to design these around what mums and dads actually want for their kids, rather than around what a factory finds easy or what a spreadsheet says a nappy should be. That only works if the people using them tell us. Twenty families a year into a product is a genuinely unusual amount of input, and it's the reason we're doing it this way rather than paying someone with a big following to hold a pack up.

We're small enough that it goes somewhere. A note from you reaches the people who decide what the next run looks like, rather than a form that gets counted and filed. We can't promise every idea lands in the next version, because some of them are a factory conversation and some cost more than the nappy. What we can promise is that it gets read by someone who can do something about it, and that we'll tell you what we did.

That was the real offer, and it's the bit we'd have chosen in your place. Not free nappies. A say in the next ones.

Most brands let you find out the fine print after you've signed up. Here's ours, up front.

Most brands send you a box, let you post, then message you three days later asking if you'd mind changing the caption. We'd rather just tell you now. There are four and they're short.

Honestly? Someone fairly normal.

Someone in Australia with a baby, or one on the way. Anywhere between expecting and around eighteen months is where our sizes and a full year of nappies line up best.

Someone who posts like a person, with a camera roll that's mostly real mornings. No ring light, no niche, no media kit and no rate card, and we didn't ask anyone for one.

We cared much more about whether your people are real than how many of them there are. Two hundred parents who reply to your stories beats twenty thousand who scroll past.