Anisotropy — where it appears
Named by 21 essays across 6 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
A drape coefficient is one number for a directional thing
A fabric bends more easily one way than the other — a factor of two is ordinary. The drape test reports a single percentage, and the quantity that carries the directionality is the fold count, which the coefficient is almost blind to.
An inflated cylinder wants an unbalanced cloth
Balance is a virtue in almost every other cloth. Under pressure it is a defect with a size — a closed cylinder carries exactly twice the stress around its circumference as along its axis, so a balanced fabric reaches its limit in one direction with a quarter of its fibre doing nothing at all.
A cloth's Poisson ratio is not a material's
The ratio of a cloth's contraction to its extension has a name everywhere else in mechanics, and it breaks every rule the name comes with — above one half on all eight cloths measured, doubling across a four per cent span, and not reciprocal between the two directions.
What water does to a thread
A cotton fibre in water is a fifth wider and a hundredth longer. If it grew equally in both directions a wet cloth would simply be a bigger cloth and nothing structural would follow; because it does not, every ratio of a diameter to a spacing in a cloth moves, and they all move the same way.
Wicking is slower along a crimped thread
A front travelling up a warp end travels the thread's path, which is longer than the cloth by exactly the crimp. So the wicking coefficient measured on the fabric is the yarn's own divided by (1 + c)² — 14.3 per cent lost at eight per cent crimp, whatever the liquid.
A knit relaxes for as long as it is allowed to
Munden's three states are usually given as three sets of constants. Read as a path they are two steps, they compose exactly, and the second is not a smaller version of the first — the fabric shrinks twice as much along its courses as across its wales on the first step and rather less than half as much on the second.
A jersey gets taller before it gets shorter
Pull a knit along its courses and the first thing it does is grow along its wales — by two per cent, over the first eighty per cent of extension, before it turns round and contracts. The transverse response changes sign, and there is no material in the explanation at all.
Every fabric's thread lies in a plane
A woven thread's crimp wave lies in a plane at right angles to the cloth. A knitted loop lies in a plane twelve degrees off it. Both halves of this collection turn out to be one picture with one angle in it, and the angle decides how much of a fabric's contact force acts through its thickness.
Turn the cloth and the shine changes hands
A warp crown's normals all lie in the plane across the warp and have no component along it, so a warp float can only mirror light that arrives from across the warp. Turn the cloth a quarter turn and the weft takes over. That is the whole of shot silk — a geometric effect with no dye that changes and no interference in it.
The constants say nothing about thickness
Munden's two constants give a knitted fabric's wale and course spacings from its loop length alone, and the tightness factor collapses every fabric's shape onto one curve. Neither reaches the third dimension: two knits that are one knit in plan are two different thicknesses.
The modulus a knit has instead of one
A fabric's stiffness in extension is usually its yarn's modulus with the geometry taken out. A knit's is not: dimensionally it can only be a bending rigidity over a length cubed, and the same yarn laid straight and parallel is thirty thousand times stiffer than the fabric made of it.
A knit bends more easily along its courses
A jersey is not a soft fabric to bend. Computed the same way as this collection's woven cloths it lands inside their band, at the limp end — and the useful number is not the magnitude but the direction: two point two to one between its two axes, with the soft one being the axis it rolls about.
A wet knit's yarn is flatter
A knitted fabric's own geometry demands a flattened yarn, and how flat depends on how much room the fabric leaves. A wet cotton yarn is a tenth thicker than a dry one at the same length, so a wet fabric leaves less room — and asks its yarn to be flatter by an amount the geometry gives.
How little asymmetry a curl needs
A model with a thickness can finally be asked why stockinette rolls. It answers that it does not — its curling moment is exactly zero, by a symmetry — and the useful part is what that costs to break: five per cent of a yarn diameter buys the whole of the curl anybody has ever seen.
An inflated beam wrinkles at a moment with no cloth in it
An air-filled tube can be used as a beam because the pressure pulls its cloth taut along its length, and a cloth that cannot carry a push can carry a bending moment for exactly as long as that pull outweighs it. The inside of the bend goes slack at πpr³/2 and the tube folds at πpr³ — seventy-nine and a hundred and fifty-seven newton metres for a tube a fifth of a metre across at half a bar — and there is no property of the cloth in either. The cloth decides how far the beam bends on the way, and how much pressure it can be pumped to.
A thread has a second stiffness
Every mechanical number here came from one material constant: how hard a thread is to bend. A thread also resists being twisted, nothing here has ever used that, and the ratio between the two turns out to be the only stiffness number about a yarn that can be known at all.
The one fibre whose answer is known
A table of measured constants is worth what its worst row is worth, and nobody can tell which row that is. This one has a member whose answer was known before anybody measured it, and the ordering of the other nine turns out to say something about how fibres are made.
No cloth shines under a sky
Every specular figure on this account is drawn at a tolerance of two degrees, which is a stand-in for how wide the source is. Sweeping it says something the account has not: the contrast between a floated weave and a plain one is inversely proportional to the source's angular size, exactly, because a float keeps a crown line as the source narrows and a plain weave has only turns. A satin outshines a plain weave by 177 under the sun's disc, by 22 under a small lamp, and by exactly nothing at sixty degrees.
The shog is the anisotropy
An underlap is a straight run from one needle to another on the next course, so it is a hypotenuse — and its length is fixed while the two spacings are not. Pulling the fabric wider turns it towards the horizontal and pulls the courses together, on a circle. Every state a warp knit's underlaps allow lies on that circle, its as-knitted point sits where the shog puts it, and the ratio of the length it can give to the width it can give runs from 2.3 at a tricot to 218 at four needle spaces.
The section that changes both stiffnesses
A thread's two rigidities are in the ratio 2G/E, and that is a fact about a circular section: a circle's polar second moment is exactly twice its flexural one. A yarn in cloth is not circular, so a yarn in cloth has three constants rather than two — and the ratio a whole ladder rests on is a lower bound.
Opposed bars even a warp knit by locking it
Two patterning bars knitting the same stripe can be set so that each bar's long underlaps fall where the other's are short. Neither bar's stroke changes, and every course then carries the same total yarn — but that is not why the cloth comes out even. Every course pairs a long underlap with a short one, the long one stops the width and the short one stops the length, and so every course gives like the stiffer bar in both directions. The evenness is bought with the stripe's give.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
ElasticaLoop lengthSpecificationBending rigidityCrimpCrimp interchangeCloth thicknessDrapeLoopRelaxationStiffness ratioThread length