Population — where it appears
Named by 22 essays across 8 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
A cloth is a population, not a thread
Every number in this collection was computed from a diameter, and no yarn has one. Putting the distribution back changes some answers by nothing at all, some by a few per cent, and some by a factor — and which of the three happens is decided by one derivative.
The spread was never free
This collection has taken a yarn's irregularity off a delivery note and used it as an input. It is not an input. Counting the fibres in a cross-section puts a floor under it that no spinner can beat, and the floor is one over the square root of the count.
A random error hides and a periodic one shows
A warp whose threads vary by fifteen per cent looks perfectly even. One dent of the reed a tenth of a millimetre wide makes a streak that gets the piece rejected. The same amount of error, arranged two ways — and the ratio between them is √(2n/π), with nothing fitted in it.
A slub finds the width of the cloth
A thick place recurring along a weft yarn does not make a bar. It makes diagonals — and when the cloth's width happens to be a whole number of fault periods, it makes stripes down the piece instead, from a fault that is entirely in the weft.
A course is one thread and a warp is many
A woven fabric draws its warp from two thousand packages side by side, so a yarn's drift averages out across the width. A weft knit takes whole courses from one package, so the same drift becomes a band — and the standard remedy for that turns an invisible error into a visible one.
A cloth cannot be more even than its yarn
It can be very much more even than its yarn, and by exactly the square root of the threads in view. Which raises a question the fineness argument left open — and the answer is that at a fixed cloth weight the count cancels out entirely.
Why a knit shows a thick place
A woven cloth has hundreds of separate warp ends and averages a yarn's faults among them. A knit has one thread and a machine that repeats — so a difference between two packages becomes a stripe, and the machine chooses its period.
A chenille is a yarn that is already a fabric
A chenille yarn is a woven gauze cut into strips. Every structural question this collection asks about cloth can be asked about it — does it hang together, how many systems has it, what holds the pile in — and the answers are the same answers one level down.
A finish spends a spread before it spends a mean
Every operation on a cloth multiplies the variation it inherits by its own log-slope, so an operation with an exponent below one makes the cloth more even and one above it makes the cloth less even. Calendering, which is bought for evenness, has an exponent of 1.4.
A tear asks fewer threads than a pull
A strip test averages a hundred threads and a tear interrogates four. That difference alone accounts for the two things everybody knows about tear testing — that it reads low, and that it scatters — without anything about the cloth being different between the two tests.
A thickness is a maximum, not a mean
A presser foot rests on whatever is highest beneath it, so the thickness of a fabric is an extreme value — and an extreme grows with how much cloth is asked. The standard specifies the foot's area because the foot's area is in the answer.
Half the air goes through a tenth of the holes
A permeability computed from the average hole says nothing about which holes the air uses. Once the threads have a spread, the answer is: not many of them — and in a close cloth, half the flow leaves through less than a tenth of the openings.
A bundle is weaker than its threads
Threads pulled together do not break together. The weakest goes first and hands its load to the rest, so a bundle carries its maximum well before every thread is at its own limit — and the shortfall is a quarter, decided by the spread and by nothing else.
A warp jams where its threads are thickest
The closest a cloth can be set is decided by its worst pair of neighbours, not its average thread — and the worst pair depends on how many pairs there are. The same yarn in a wider loom jams sooner, which makes a jammed sett a property of the machine as well as of the yarn.
A yarn breaks at its thinnest place
A tensile test does not measure a yarn. It measures the worst section between the clamps — so evenness and strength are one measurement taken twice, and the number of independent tries in a specimen is set by the length of a fibre.
Two hairiness meters read two moments
The trade has two instruments for yarn hairiness and thirty years of failing to predict either from the other. They are not measuring the same thing badly. One reports the first moment of a distribution and the other reports a tail probability, and two functionals of one curve are related only through a parameter neither of them reports.
A moiré is a vernier, and it magnifies the error too
Two gratings a per cent apart in pitch beat at a hundred pitches, so a moiré reads a pitch difference at a hundred times — which is what a vernier is. The magnification is free and its ceiling is not: the fringes split when one thread's own spacing error reaches 0.84 of the pitch difference the beat is built on, so the usable gain is 0.84 divided by the cloth's coefficient of variation, inversely and not inverse-squarely. At an ordinary yarn's spacing irregularity, a moiré carries a magnification of five.
A designed thin place is kinder than an accidental one
A slub yarn and a badly spun one can carry exactly the same coefficient of variation, and the number tells a mill nothing about which it has. The designed variation has a floor — its base count, and it never goes below it — while the accidental one has a tail that falls further the more yarn is tested. At 36% CV the slub bottoms at 89% of its mean and the random yarn reaches 24%, and the gap widens from 1.6 to 3.7 times as the test grows from ten gauge lengths to ten thousand.
The strong fibre is the one that pills
A pill survives while any one of its anchors holds, which is a maximum over a small sample rather than an average — and a maximum behaves nothing like an average. A fifth of a strong fibre in a blend buys four fifths of the pure strong fibre's pill life while leaving the whole of the weak fibre's fuzz supply in place.
Prickle is a buckling load
The wool trade specifies comfort against skin by the percentage of fibres coarser than thirty micrometres, and the thirty is a measured boundary with no derivation attached. It is a column formula: solve for the diameter at which a protruding fibre end stops bending away and starts standing its ground, and thirty micrometres falls out.
Where a yarn is thinnest
A yarn in a fabric is pressed where it crosses and free where it does not, so its section changes along its own length. Every flattening this collection has ever quoted is a single number for a profile that runs from four fifths of a diameter to nearly four.
A fabric is a population of contacts
Only a fifth of a knitted fabric's yarn is inside a diameter of its neighbour. So a fabric's friction lives in a fifth of its length, and every calculation this collection makes about withdrawal, slippage and fraying has assumed it lives everywhere.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Coefficient of variationOrder statisticSpecificationMeasurementJammingAppearanceBeatBundle strengthFibre countLimit irregularityPeriodCloth thickness