Why the Zoe Baby Stroller Destroyed My Double Buggy Myths

Tom
2026-04-18T02:09:58+02:00

I was wedged firmly in the doorway of a rather nice independent coffee shop in Soho, sweating profusely through a supposedly breathable linen shirt, while a queue of deeply unamused Londoners judged me. I was pushing a twin pram that weighed roughly the same as a small hippopotamus and was roughly the same width. Twin A was screaming because she had dropped her dummy onto the pavement, Twin B was asleep with her mouth open catching the occasional bit of city soot, and I was desperately trying to angle this luxury piece of artillery through a standard door frame. I lost paint from the door. I lost my dignity. We drank our flat whites on the curb in the rain.

The greatest lie modern parenting culture tells us is that to keep your children safe and comfortable, you need massive, heavy equipment. I bought into this delusion entirely. I assumed a proper baby stroller had to be built like a tank, forged in steel, capable of surviving a localized earthquake. I spent nine months researching suspension systems I didn't understand, convinced that if the chassis didn't weigh thirty pounds, I was a negligent father.

Then my spine decided it had had enough of lifting a small vehicle into the boot of our car three times a day, and I finally caved to the targeted ads for a Zoe baby stroller. It felt like giving up. It felt like admitting defeat to the twin-dad lifestyle. But honestly, it was the only thing that gave me my weekends back.

The heavy buggy delusion

Here's the truth about taking two toddlers absolutely anywhere: it's an exercise in damage limitation. You don't need all-terrain tires unless you actually live on a farm, which I don't. I live in Zone 3, where the most treacherous terrain we encounter is a slightly uneven paving stone outside the Tesco Express.

When the Zoe Twin V2 arrived in its terrifyingly small box, I laughed out loud. It weighed 23 pounds. I could lift it with one arm while holding a squirming two-year-old in the other (page 47 of some parenting book I read suggested you remain calm during these transitions, which I found deeply unhelpful at 3am when practicing how to unfold the thing). The fabric claims to be GREENGUARD Gold certified, which supposedly means they didn't douse it in horrific toxic chemicals that will off-gas into my children's faces. I'm not a chemist, and my understanding of molecular emissions is mostly limited to whatever noxious fumes escape Twin B after a bowl of lentil pasta, but it’s reassuring to know there are no phthalates in the canopy.

But the real revelation was the width. I don't know who started the rumor online that this thing is 39 inches wide—probably someone trying to justify their massive luxury pram—but it's exactly 29 inches across. Given that standard interior doors max out around 36 inches, this meant I could actually walk into a shop without having to collapse the entire operation outside and carry two screaming toddlers under my arms like rugby balls.

Consumer Reports and the hill of doom

If you've spent more than five minutes on a parenting forum, you've probably seen the absolute meltdown regarding the Zoe Traveler model and the independent safety tests.

Let's talk about this, because it nearly stopped me from buying their brand entirely. Consumer Reports issued a terrifying "Do Not Buy" rating for the ultra-compact Traveler because they found it tipped backward. Sounds awful, right? But then you actually read the methodology. They took this 13-pound travel buggy, put it on a steep 12-degree incline, reclined the seat all the way flat, loaded it with a maximum 45-pound dummy, and basically stepped back and watched gravity do what gravity does.

My GP casually noted at our last checkup that literally any lightweight umbrella buggy on earth will flip over backward if you park it on a steep hill and hang a massive changing bag off the handlebars. It's just basic physics, which I routinely fail at, but even I know you don't park a featherweight buggy on a San Francisco-style hill and let go. The Twin V2 I bought really passed all those tests perfectly anyway, but the whole controversy just highlights how bizarre our safety expectations have become. We expect a 13-pound travel frame to perform like a stationary piece of cast iron furniture.

Things that genuinely bothered me

Let me complain for a minute, because while the Zoe saved my back, it's not a perfect machine.

The under-seat storage basket is a joke. A literal joke. It has a weight limit of about 10 pounds, which is roughly the weight of one standard packet of wet wipes and half a water bottle. When you've twins, leaving the house requires the logistical planning of a minor military invasion. I need space for coats, spare trousers for when someone inevitably sits in a puddle, snacks, more snacks, emergency snacks for when the first snacks are rejected for being the wrong shape, and a mountain of nappies. You can't fit this in the Zoe basket without scraping the bottom of the fabric against the pavement. I spend half my walks kicking the basket with my shins because it’s sagging under the weight of two Kianao blankets and a rogue wellington boot.

I also harbor deep resentment for the airless wheels. They're absolutely brilliant in an airport terminal or on smooth tarmac. They glide. But the moment you hit a patch of loose gravel in the park, the buggy stops dead as if you've hit a brick wall, usually causing whichever twin is currently drinking milk to spill it violently down their chin.

There's basically zero suspension. You feel the bumps. They feel the bumps. I like to think it builds character.

A surprisingly decent baby strategy

Around the time we transitioned fully to this lightweight lifestyle, the twins decided to cut their molars simultaneously. This is a special kind of hell where nobody sleeps, everybody drools, and my shirt shoulders are permanently crusted with a mysterious clear slime. A solid baby strategy for public transport became utterly key if I wanted to avoid dirty looks on the Victoria line.

I had tossed a few new toys into that pathetic under-seat basket, and honestly, the Squirrel Teether with Acorn Design is the only reason I'm still sane. It's a lifesaver. Twin A, who usually prefers gnawing directly on the pram's bumper bar, took to the textured acorn bit immediately. It’s 100% food-grade silicone, which means I can just lob it in the dishwasher when it inevitably hits the floor of the Tube station. The ring shape is brilliant because she can honestly keep a grip on it while strapped into the buggy. On a recent deeply stressful Tuesday, she aggressively chewed that mint green squirrel for forty straight minutes while I drank a lukewarm coffee in beautiful, uninterrupted silence.

I also keep Kianao’s Organic Cotton Baby Blanket with Polar Bear Print shoved in the back canopy pocket. It's perfectly fine. It does exactly what a blanket should do—keeps the sharp London wind off their legs. It's double-layered organic cotton, so it doesn't make them sweat when we go from the cold street into an overheated shop. The polar bears are objectively very cute, but to be entirely honest, my kids couldn't care less about the arctic aesthetic and mostly just use it to aggressively wipe hummus off their faces after lunch.

If you're desperately looking for ways to distract the baby while out and about, or just want to stockpile things that might buy you five minutes of peace, explore our teething toys collection and wooden play gyms for more bits that genuinely work.

The Disney test and the wet noodle rule

People on the internet love to talk about whether a buggy is "Disney approved." I haven't taken my kids to a theme park because I value my mental health, but the massive UPF 50+ canopy on this thing is genuinely impressive. It pulls all the way down, creating a dark little cave of isolation. I've no idea how UPF fabric really works on a scientific level to block UV rays, but I know it creates a shadow dark enough that my kids honestly take their afternoon nap while I walk in circles around the local park.

One thing you must know, though, is about the seat recline. The standard seats on the Tour or the Twin recline to about 140 degrees. That's great for a snoring toddler, but absolutely terrible for a newborn. My GP likes to remind me that infants under four months have the structural integrity of a wet noodle. They have zero head and neck control. You can't just plonk a tiny baby into the main seat of these lightweight buggies without a car seat adapter or a proper bassinet attachment, unless you want them slumped over looking like a discarded ragdoll. Wait until they can sit up properly.

Between keeping a light touch on the brake, wrestling the tiny storage basket, and avoiding the gravel paths, you just sort of adapt to the quirks. It forces you to pack lighter. You stop taking the massive luxury changing bag and realize that a few nappies, some wipes, and a silicone squirrel are really all you need to survive.

If you're trying to figure out how to transport your own small, sticky humans without entirely ruining your back, browse Kianao's organic baby essentials for gear that won't weigh you down.

Frequently Asked Questions

Can the Zoe Twin V2 genuinely fit through a standard doorway?
Yes, it's exactly 29 inches wide. Since standard interior and exterior doors in most modern buildings are between 32 and 36 inches, you can glide right through without taking the hinges off or waking your children. Just don't let anyone online tell you it's 39 inches wide.

Can I use the standard Zoe seat for a newborn?
Absolutely not. The standard seats only recline to 140 degrees, which is not flat enough for a newborn who lacks head and neck control. You must use a specific car seat adapter or a bassinet attachment until they're around 4 to 6 months old and can hold their head up independently.

Why did Consumer Reports fail the Traveler model?
They issued a failure because the buggy tipped backward during a specific lab test where it was placed on a steep 12-degree incline, fully reclined, and loaded with a 45-pound weight. Most lightweight umbrella-style buggies will tip under these extreme conditions or if you hang a heavy bag on the handlebars while on a hill.

Are the airless tires good for off-road walking?
No, they're terrible for it. The smooth, airless tires are designed to keep the buggy's overall weight down and are perfect for flat pavements, shopping centers, and airports. If you take them on loose gravel or thick mud, the buggy will aggressively vibrate and struggle to push forward.

Does the Zoe stroller have a good under-seat basket?
It's incredibly small. The trade-off for having a stroller that only weighs 13 to 23 pounds is that the basket is shallow and usually has a weight limit of around 10 pounds. You can't fit a massive, overstuffed changing bag down there.