MY NAME is Maggie and I am a nappy addict. Cloth nappies, that is. I started out on the easy stuff — Kushies Ultras, Mother-ease, you can find them on any high street — but soon that wasn’t enough, I wanted more, I wanted the serious stuff.

It took me a while to get the right connections, but once I’d found my dealers on the internet, it was so easy. There was so much great gear out there. I just had to pay and it was delivered to my door. Now I’m a hopeless case. I think about nappies all the time. I look forward to using them. I plan my next nappy hit — I even put them on the radiator to get warm.

I’m one of a fast-growing new breed of mothers who feel the same. We call them “real nappies”. We call ourselves “clothies” (well, some people do) and the “cloth nappy world” we inhabit is starting to have the feeling of a real community, almost a movement.

You only have to look at the exchanges on the “cloth nappies forum” on the website UKparents.co.uk to see the extent of it. There are more than 3,500 postings on the subject. Of course, most “sposie” mothers (those who use disposable nappies) think I must be bonkers — or some kind of overwrought eco-obsessive — to use nappies I have to wash. Certainly the environment is a large part of it — more than eight million disposable nappies go into landfill every day in the UK. That is why most women investigate the sustainable nappy option, but there are other attractions.

There is the money you save: after the capital outlay, washable nappies work out cheaper in the long term, even when costs of laundering are included. Some local councils offer financial incentives to families who commit to using cloth nappies in an effort to meet new government strictures on landfill. Then there are the health issues. Most clothie mums are concerned about the unknown long-term effects of the chemicals used in disposables, particularly the moisture-retaining gels.

But for many the appeal of cloth nappies is simpler than all that — it’s the shopping. Because today’s washable nappies have very little to do with all that awful folding and pinning and horrid plastic pants, and a lot to do with fashion. In the 21st century, cloth nappies are cool.

Just now, for example, my six-month-old daughter is wearing a well-fitting rose-print nappy Cath Kidston would not be ashamed of, with an elegant wool flannel wrap over the top. Later she will move into a more Dolce & Gabbana moment, with her leopard-print wrap over a classic “Fairy Liquid” baby-style nappy, in unbleached ecru towelling. Adorable.

The best of these new “nappy systems” have an absorbent inner layer plus a waterproof outer wrap. The inner may be made of multiple layers of eco-friendly hemp, finest organic Egyptian cotton grown on fairtrade co-operative farms, cosy chenille, or moisture-wicking polyester fleece.

These are tailored into fiendishly clever little loincloths, cunningly designed for maximum soak up, optimal “containment” and quick drying, and requiring no origami folding or fiddly pins. They close with Velcro-style tabs, with poppers, or with a new invention called Nappi Nippas (a three-pronged stretch plastic gripper). Over the top of these go the new breathable waterproof wraps, made of everything from specially woven high-tech fabrics to organic wool, also closing with Velcro or poppers. One, two; on, off; soak in a bucket; chuck in the washer, tumble dry — it’s a cinch, especially if, like me, you are a work-at-home mother. (Some nurseries now use cloth nappies to avoid council charges for excess refuse.)

There are many excellent cloth-nappy retailers on the internet, and probably the best to appreciate the astonishing range of nappy systems is Twinkle Twinkle (twinkle ontheweb.co.uk). This online nappy department store was set up three years ago by Miranda Stamp, who was frustrated trying to find washable nappies for Tamsin, now aged three and a half.

Stamp and other retailers have agents who host a new version of the Tupperware party, called a “Nappaccino”: coffee mornings for mothers to socialise, check out products, exchange advice and order new nappies.

With so many varieties on offer, each with special features (see “Put to the Test”), the main problem facing many well-intentioned parents is confusion, an antenatal condition I identified in myself as “nappy boggle”.

This is what prompted Morag Gaherty, a former accountant and mother of two boys, to start her business, The Nappy Lady (www.thenappylady.co.uk). The business has grown fivefold in three years, and Gaherty employs 18 nappy advisers to answer queries. She is part of a boom in infant sanitary products, with small home-based businesses experiencing meteoric growth thanks to the economies and efficiencies of the internet.