Every essay — page 15
What cloth is Weaves Setting and geometry Knits and other structures Mechanics and drape Pattern and colour Compound and figured cloths After the loom Cloth doing a job
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Pattern and colour
A draft is a periodic plane pattern with two states, so the symmetry is two-coloured. Colour order, and the things the eye reliably gets wrong.
A curtain is gathered so that it is seen edge-on
A curtain is hung with more cloth than window, and the surplus is not decoration. Laid in folds, a length of cloth spans its own length times the cosine of its flank angle, so the fullness is the secant of that angle exactly — and a line of sight through the window meets the cloth at it. A voile's view halves at a fullness of 1.08, its flanks shut completely at 1.48, and at the two and a half times a curtain is actually hung at, every flank passes nothing and the whole of what comes through is the crests.
What a sheer hides is decided by the furniture
Every result these essays have produced assumed the room and the street reflect the same three tenths of the light on them. That was never a fact about cloth. A room reflecting a twentieth is hidden two hundred and thirty-eight times better than the street it faces and one reflecting four fifths only fifteen times, with the same curtain at the same window — and the day-and-night exchange they rested on, exact for equal scenes, is out by more than half the glow for an ordinary pair of unequal ones.
An unbroken line is not a clean one
A line of colour has two boundaries and neither is straight, in any weave there is. The thread at the edge must go under somewhere, and where it does the edge retreats to its neighbour — so the boundary steps, and by exactly one thread less than the narrowest unbroken line the weave draws. Over 22,874 drafts there are three widths and three swings and no draft anywhere else, and widening the line past its narrowest unbroken width leaves the edge precisely where it was.
The finest colour-and-weave effects need the rarest loom
A houndstooth, a shepherd's check and a gun club check are thrown by the cheapest shuttle loom there is. A hairline, an end-and-end and a log cabin are thrown by none — a colour on every other pick is thrown from the same side every time, so its shuttles pile up at the far end of the loom and never come back. The dividing line is the parity of the bands and nothing else, which is why it survives the fact that no two sources agree about how wide a shepherd's check is.
An even shading cannot keep its surface level
Sixty-four six-end shadings hold every middle tone to a float of two, and the question left over was whether any of them keeps a tone ramp's surface level the way a twill read in order does. None does, and all of them sink by exactly the same depth — 43.3 micrometres on a sheeting, a sixth of the cloth. The reason is a counting argument a recording engineer would recognise: a limit on how long a thread may float is a limit on run length, and a run-length limit forces a floor on how often the thread changes face. A level ramp needs every tone at the extremes' rate, which needs a float of half the repeat at the midtone and more beside it — exactly the floats the twill in order has.
A net of three directions beats a voile one way at a time
A tulle's threads run three ways at sixty degrees and a voile's run two ways at ninety, so a net hung over a voile could show one family of fringes, three, or a lattice of them. It shows two, at right angles, and they are nothing alike. Along the voile threads that lie parallel to one of the net's, the net beats exactly as a one-directional net does: six-millimetre fringes from three metres. Across them no set of the net lies anywhere near, and the only slow beat comes from a line of points two sets make together at √3 over the net's pitch — fringes four times wider and a fifteenth as strong, with a null at 8.8 metres where the strong family has none.
A colour-and-weave look costs its cheaper order
The finest colour-and-weave effects need the rarest loom because a weft order is thrown pick by pick and a warp order is laid out once, so an effect's price was said to be its weft. That is true of a construction and false of a cloth. The same cloth can be woven lying across the loom, with its warp order thrown as weft and its weft order laid in the warp, and then it costs the other order. Over every two-colour look twelve small weaves make with orders up to six threads — 4,036 of them — 55 per cent need a loom picking at will as drawn and 31 per cent need one either way round. The looks turning rescues are the ones fine in one direction only, and not one of the trade's named effects is among them.
A turned block is a moved origin
An eight-end satin figured on a 2/2 twill fails on 55,536 profiles at a block eight picks by two ends and on none at two by eight, and that was read as a property of the block's shape. Sweep the relative origin as well and the two shapes trade places: at every one of the sixteen origins exactly one of them fails, and over the sixteen they fail equally often. A shape asymmetry that no origin removes exists, and it needs a satin whose move squared is not one.
The colour order that hides least
A caption on this account's top essay left a question: whether a warp of long runs against a weft of short ones hides less than either would against itself, and called it a lever nobody uses. Sweeping all sixteen orders against all sixteen says the lever is real and the caption named the wrong variable. Run length has nothing to do with it — the blind count, the separation and the largest confused class all depend on the two orders' colour counts and on nothing else, and what a mixed pair saves is exactly the square of the difference between them.
An eight-end shading is pinned at three everywhere but its centre
At six ends every even shading holds its middle tones to a float of two, and every one sinks to the same depth. The question left was whether eight ends does the same. It cannot even start: at eight ends no shading can hold its second tone to two, a float of three there needs the second mark of every pick exactly opposite the first, and then the third mark cannot undo it. Tones two, three, five and six are pinned at a float of three, only the centre is free, and a family with a free centre does not sink to one depth — it sinks to at least six.
A blind set hides less the thinner it is spread
Two colours showed that where a cloth's threads match in colour the draft underneath is invisible, and that how many intersections match is not what decides how much is hidden. More colours say what does. A third colour lets the blind count take every value from nought to ten; a fourth lets the blind intersections sit one to a thread. At a fixed count, the catalogue keeps more of its cloths apart the more threads the blind set is spread across — 3,632 surfaces for four scattered blind cells, 2,402 for the same four in a square.
A sheer's privacy is the error it multiplies
Everything a passer-by sees of a room through a sheer is the room's image plus a veil the street lights, and the veil can be known without going in. So one subtraction and one division ought to read the room's reflectance from the pavement. They do not, and the reason is the curtain's whole purpose: every error in the veil arrives in the answer multiplied by the reading over the image — sixty-four through a white voile by day, three and a half at equal light. The privacy a sheer gives and the precision it denies are one number.
Glass hides a black net and not a white voile
A window pane in front of a curtain mirrors the street, and a mirror is a veil with no thread in it. It also dims the street's light on the cloth. For a white voile the two nearly cancel, and straight on the dimming wins, so the voile is slightly easier to read through glass than without it. For a black net the mirror is most of what a passer-by sees: its multiplier goes from 2 to 5 head-on and to 25 from along the pavement. The glass makes the net private, not the voile. The angle at which it stops helping does not depend on the time of day, and a polarising filter at Brewster's angle takes the mirror out altogether.
A blind cell costs half the cloths at any real repeat
At four by four, spreading a blind set over more threads kept half as many cloths apart again as gathering it. At eight by eight the same rule holds, and it is almost nothing: three per cent for four blind cells, eight for eight. The reason is one factor. A blind set's surfaces are the count's bound, 2^(n² − b), times the chance that every thread it misses interlaces on its own, and at eight threads a thread lies all on one face once in 128 tries. So shapes that touch the same number of threads tie exactly, whatever their rectangles; every blind cell costs very nearly half the catalogue; and by twelve threads the arrangement is free.
Only one start in six can reach the shallowest shading
The even eight-end shadings — middle tones floating three, centre floating two — were too many to walk, and a walk stopped at a hundred thousand chains found six depths. Split at the centre, the family can be counted whole: 1,001,574,400 chains in fourteen depths, every one of them decided by the centre alone. Only 816 of the 5,040 ways to begin a shading can still reach the shallowest ramp, and a designer who wants it has to choose the first two parts before anything else.
An upper pane mirrors a sky no curtain can afford
A pane in front of a sheer helps a reading only while what it mirrors is dim: for a white voile, below about half the brightness of a white wall lit like the window. A street-level pane mirrors the terrace across the road and stays under that. An upper pane, seen from the pavement below, mirrors the sky, and an overcast horizon — the darkest sky there is — is already twice the limit. Whether a first-floor pane shows sky depends on how far out from the façade the passer-by stands and on nothing else, so the same window is harder to see into from close up than from across the street.
A pane leaned forward loses the sky and finds no darker mirror
A pane tilted by some angle sends a passer-by's line of sight off at twice that angle more, and the passer-by's place along the street still drops out. Tilted back about twenty degrees, a street-level pane mirrors sky from everywhere in the street and nearly doubles what a white voile hides. Leaned forward ten degrees, a first-floor pane stops mirroring sky from three metres out, and the voile behind it reads better through glass than bare. Leaning further finds nothing darker: under an overcast sky the road is a brighter mirror than the terrace opposite, by a seventh.
A stripe's edge is cleanest inside one dent
No weave can draw a line with a straight edge, since the thread at the boundary must go under somewhere. A cloth has one freedom its weave lacks, which is the spacing of its ends, and it looked as though crowding a stripe's outer end could halve the swing. It cannot, in most cloth: two ends stop at a diameter apart, so the swing falls only as far as the cover. The freedom that costs nothing is another one. A line's narrowest unbroken width is exactly its swing plus one, so it fits one dent of a reed, and the same reed gives 1.2 thread spacings or 2.4 according to which end of the dent the line begins on.
Setting and geometry
Yarn diameter, crimp and cover. How close threads can be set, why thread count is not what it is taken for, and which model produced any number.
Thread count is not quality
It counts threads. It says nothing about how much of the cloth they cover, it can be inflated by counting plies, and it ranks fabrics in nearly the wrong order. The quantity it is mistaken for is cover factor, and that one is computable.
Crimp, and why cloth narrows when it is pulled
A thread in cloth is longer than the cloth it crosses. Pull the fabric one way and that extra length is taken out of one direction and put into the other, so the cloth gets narrower without a single fibre stretching.
How close can threads be set
There is a maximum. Push more threads into a cloth than the geometry allows and they simply will not go, and the limit depends on the weave as much as on the yarn.
The yarn count systems, and why there are several
Half the ways of saying how fine a yarn is get bigger as it gets finer and half get smaller. That is not carelessness — and one of the constants buried in the oldest rule of thumb turns out to be a measurement nobody wrote down.
Peirce against the racetrack, measured
Two models of a yarn's cross-section, given the same yarn and the same closure condition, agree on how densely the cloth can be set and disagree by nearly half on how thick it is. Which quantity is being asked about decides whether the choice of model matters at all.
Balance, and what an unbalanced cloth does
How much of the surface each thread system takes is the mean of the weave matrix, and it is one of the very few quantities in this subject that can be read straight off. Almost nothing that follows from it can.