Specular area — where it appears
Named by 10 essays across 5 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
A figure shows by its shine, not its step
A damask is one cloth in one colour and its pattern is plainly visible. This collection attributed that to the step in its surface — fifty micrometres of relief, computed from the interlacing rates. The step is real and returns almost no light. What makes the figure visible is that its crowns run at right angles to the ground's, so the two trade places when the cloth is turned.
A jersey has two surfaces
The face of a plain knit shows the legs of its loops, which run along the wale; the back shows the heads and feet, which run across it. So the two faces carry their crowns at right angles — the same situation as a damask's figure and its ground, in a fabric with no warp, no weft and no float.
A shadow stripe is two twists
A cloth striped in one colour, where the stripe is visible only because alternate bands are spun the other way round. The pattern is carried entirely by which way the fibres lie on the yarn's surface, and it disappears when the light moves.
Raising moves the surface onto the hairs
A raising machine pulls fibre ends up out of the floats, and what a finger or a light then meets is not the cloth's surface at all but a layer of loose fibre standing above it. The criterion for which cloths can be raised is the same criterion, exactly, that decides which cloths have crown line — so raising spends the surface that would have made the fabric shine.
A float reflects into a line
A cylinder cannot return a beam to a point. Its normals sweep the whole half-turn across it and nothing at all along it, so a straight thread throws light into a fan — seen as a highlight lying along the thread, exactly as long as the length of thread that is straight. The lobe of a satin is twice as narrow along the thread as across it; the lobe of a plain weave is exactly round.
A seam stands proud and wears first
A seam allowance is three plies where the garment is one, so it stands three quarters of a millimetre above a cloth whose own surface has a few micrometres of contact in it. Anything flat rubbed across the garment touches the seam and nothing else — all of the wear on two or three per cent of the area, until a whole thickness of fabric has been crushed.
Lustre is a length times a width
The specular area of a cloth factors exactly: a length of crown line, which the draft supplies, times a width of section within the tolerance, which the yarn and the finish supply. Neither factor knows anything about the other, and over the four-by-four catalogue the first alone spans a factor of sixty.
A calender buys the width
Press a cloth and its lustre multiplies by twenty-four. None of that comes from the length of its crowns, which moves by six per cent; all of it comes from their width, because a flattened section has a plane on top of it and a plane has one normal rather than a fan of them. The arithmetic refuses to put any of the gain in the other factor.
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.
A hair layer veils a highlight
An eight-end satin's shine swings by a large factor as the cloth is turned, because a straight thread's normals lie in the plane across it. Put fibre ends on it and the swing disappears — not because the hairs block the light, which changes no contrast at all, but because they return light of their own that has no direction in it.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Crown lineLustreSurface heightFloat lengthBearing curveCalenderingCloth thicknessPlateauRacetrack sectionRaisingSpecular reflectionAbrasion