Tenacity — where it appears
Named by 18 essays across 3 fields — each of them below, with the objects they name alongside it.
Water tells two fibres apart
Cotton and viscose are the same material by every constant this collection carries. Same density, same modulus, same fineness, so the same diameter at every count and the same crimp, cover, jamming sett and bending bracket. A wash separates them by a factor of two, and it is the only thing here that can.
Recovery is measured and nothing predicts it
A fibre's stiffness is a bracket this collection can compute the ends of. What fraction of a strain it gives back is not: it has to be looked up, the tables are thin, they stop exactly where a fabric needs them, and the most attractive explanation for the ordering they show turns out to have no signal in it at all.
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 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.
A straight fibre cannot share the load
Extend a twisted yarn and its fibres are not all strained alike: the one on the axis takes the whole of it and the one at the surface takes cos²α. So they do not break together, and what a wandering fibre is worth comes out as one expression with nothing fitted in it.
A cloth loses its strength before its mass
Rub a fabric and it sheds material from all over its surface, but it sheds it from every thread at the same place — and a thread breaks at its thinnest place. So the strength gone is always several times the mass gone, the ratio is computable from the bearing curve, and it is worst for the weave whose crowns are points.
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.
A pill is anchored, not made
Every account of pilling starts with how a ball of fibre forms and stops there, which explains why fabrics pill and not why some of them stay pilled. A pill is not a thing that happens; it is a standing population, and the number on a fabric at any moment is a generation rate times a lifetime.
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.
A seam must give what the knit gives
A knitted seam fails because it is too short, not because it is too weak: the thread in it is nearly two thousand times stronger than the load it carries. What decides whether it survives is one line of geometry — the extension a seam can reach is twice the fabric's thickness times the stitches per unit length.
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 knot is nothing but contact
A knot has no fastening in it. Nothing is glued, hooked, sewn or threaded through a hole: a thread is bent round itself until the friction where it presses on itself is more than the load. That makes a knot the purest contact problem in the subject, and the place to look first for what contact does.
Where a knot breaks
It breaks at the entry, before the knot has done any gripping at all. Two quantities run along a knot's path and only one of them rises; the other falls from the first millimetre; and their sum is largest where the thread arrives.
A knot halves a yarn and says why
The rule is quoted for every rope and every knot and derived nowhere. It comes out at forty-six per cent for a cotton — but only if the yarn's fibres bend individually. A yarn bending as a solid section has already spent five times its breaking strain before any load arrives, so it could not be knotted at all.
Which yarns knot well
A knot's efficiency depends on three things and only one of them is the knot. The other two are the fibre's fineness and its breaking strain, and across this collection's own table those give efficiencies from six per cent to eighty-three at exactly the same bend.
What a high-twist yarn costs a cloth
Twist buys strength up to a point and then loses it, and everything else it does is a cost. A crepe twist is chosen knowing that, and the trade's twist limits are a balance among five quantities that this collection can now put beside one another.
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.
Named alongside it
The objects these essays reach for when they reach for this one.
Bending rigidityFibre countDamageFibre finenessSpecificationContactHelix anglePacking factorAbrasionBundle strengthCapstanFriction