Staple length — where it appears
Named by 13 essays across 7 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
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.
A tuft is set so it cannot untwist
A cut pile tuft has a free end, and at a free end the pressure holding the twist is zero. So the twist runs out over a computable length, the tuft opens, and a carpet loses its appearance long before it loses any material.
A yarn's surface is a distribution
This collection has computed where a cloth stops, and every one of those numbers is a statement about yarn. What a finger, a plate, a droplet or a ray of light actually meets first is a population of fibre ends standing off the yarn — and it is a population, with a count and a length, rather than a layer with a thickness.
Singeing is the cheapest change to a surface
Pass a cloth through a flame fast enough and it loses under one per cent of its mass. What it loses is the part of itself that was doing most of the touching, and lustre, friction, printability, pilling and measured cover all move at once.
How many fibres make a thread
Every number in this collection began with a diameter, and a diameter is not a measurement — it is a count of fibres, divided. Once the division is written down, three quantities that had nothing to do with each other turn out to be the same number.
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.
What grips the end of a fibre
A twisted yarn squeezes itself, and the squeeze holds the fibre ends in. Write the slip and the break out side by side and the fibre's own strength cancels — and so does the load on the yarn — leaving a gripped length that depends on fineness, friction and the twist and on nothing else.
The other half of the twist curve
This collection computed the falling half of the strength–twist curve exactly and declined the rising half as being out of reach. It is not out of reach. With the grip derived rather than assumed, the optimum comes out at a twist factor — and the same twist factor at every count, which is why the trade quotes twist factors at all.
Hairiness goes as the root of the count
A coarse yarn is hairier than a fine one and everybody knows it. What nobody has said is that its hairs are no longer — the count and the length obey different laws, one rises as a square root and the other does not move at all, and the identity behind both was asserted on this site for an entirely unrelated reason.
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.
The spinning triangle decides the hair
A ring frame converges a flat ribbon of fibres to a round yarn, and for the length of that convergence the fibres at the ribbon's edges are held by nothing. Everything a spinner can do about hairiness is done in that triangle, and the two hairiness instruments respond to it by wildly different amounts.
A blade leaves loose fibre in every tuft
The account of hair, nap and pile ended on a clean claim: a blade collapses a population's length to one value, so a cut pile has no tail and nothing in it reaches past the rest. The tips are one length. The fibres are not. A tuft cut from staple yarn is a length of yarn with fibre ends scattered along it, and every fibre end that lands in a leg leaves a piece between it and the blade that nothing in the draft holds — a fifth of the pieces in an ordinary wool carpet, none in a filament one.
A cut pile sheds in two stages
Every cut tuft of staple yarn holds loose fibre pieces that nothing anchors but the twist, and at the tip the twist holds nothing: it runs out over a length the grip arithmetic already gives, five and a half millimetres in a wool carpet yarn. A loose piece lying wholly inside that run-out is free the day the carpet is laid; one reaching below it is held until walking opens the tip's twist. So the reservoir drains in two stages, and the pile height decides the split. A velvet sheds everything it will ever shed at once. A twelve-millimetre wool carpet sheds a fifth of its reservoir at once and four fifths later. A shag sheds almost nothing at first and fourteen per cent of its fibre eventually.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Fibre countHairinessFibre finenessFibre migrationHair layerCapstanContact efficiencyCritical lengthEscape fractionFrictionHelix anglePile