The other crepe is in the yarn
Worth reading first: A crepe cannot be structureless · Twist is one angle · The other half of the twist curve.
This collection has an essay about crepe already, and it is about a weave: a crepe cloth’s draft is a matrix arranged so that no repeat is visible, which turns out to be a harder problem than it sounds and to have an exact statement.
There is a second crepe and its draft is a plain weave.
Take an ordinary plain-weave construction and put in it a weft twisted to two thousand turns a metre — three or four times the twist a weaving yarn is normally given. Weave it, wet it, and let it relax. The cloth comes out with a fine, irregular, pebbled surface, twenty per cent narrower than it went in, and nothing whatever in its matrix to account for the texture.
The claim
A crepe yarn’s texture is the retraction and the torque of a very high twist, released in the cloth — and both are computable from the helix angle that produces them.
- At 40° the yarn is 13.8 per cent shorter than the straight fibre in it. Relax the cloth and that shortening is imposed on the fabric, which has nowhere to put it except out of the plane.
- The yarn’s residual torque is enormous and it has nothing to push against but the crossings. Where a crossing lets go, the thread kinks — and a kink is a snarl of a few millimetres, which is the pebble.
- The yarn realises 0.562 of its fibres against 0.771 at its own strength optimum, so a crepe cloth pays twenty-seven per cent of its strength for the surface.
The last number is the honest one and it explains why crepe constructions are not used where strength matters.
The retraction, which is where the shrinkage comes from
A fibre at the surface of a twisted yarn follows a helix. Its length per unit of yarn is the secant of its own angle, so the yarn is shorter than the fibres it contains — and the shortening, averaged over the section, is what this collection computes as retraction.
At ordinary weaving twists it is a footnote: 4.1 per cent at 800 turns a metre. At crepe twists it is not.
| twist, turns/m | twist factor | surface angle | retraction |
|---|---|---|---|
| 800 | 3,580 | 22.8° | 4.1% |
| 1,200 | 5,370 | 32.2° | 8.5% |
| 1,600 | 7,155 | 40.0° | 13.8% |
| 2,000 | 8,944 | 46.4° | 19.3% |
Now think about what happens in the cloth. The yarn was woven at a length; the twist in it is held by the friction of the crossings and by the tension on the loom. Wet the cloth and the fibres swell and slide, the friction falls, and the yarn does what a twisted elastic body does when it is released: it partly untwists, and as it untwists it lengthens.
The cloth cannot lengthen. The threads are locked into a weave, so the extra length has to go somewhere, and the only direction available is out of the plane. The thread buckles between its crossings.
That is the crepe surface: a plain weave whose threads are each a little too long for the space they are in, buckling in a pattern that is irregular because the untwisting is irregular.
The torque, which is where the pebble comes from
Retraction alone would give a uniformly puckered cloth. The characteristic irregularity of a crepe — the reason it reads as pebble rather than as ribbing — comes from the torque.
A hard-twisted yarn is lively: it stores a moment, and a free loop of it snarls back on itself. In a cloth the moment has to be resisted by the crossings, and a plain weave has more crossings per unit length than any other weave — which is why crepe cloths are woven plain rather than in a float weave, and it is a design decision with a reason.
But the resistance is not uniform. Every crossing resists by friction, and friction varies from crossing to crossing with the local pressure, the local diameter and the local crimp. Where the resistance is least, the thread turns a little; where the turning is enough, it snarls.
The pebble is a set of local instabilities, each one a length of thread that has kinked, distributed at random because the friction that held them was distributed at random. Nothing in the weave places them, which is exactly what makes the surface look unrepeating.
The trade’s practice follows from the mechanism in two ways. Crepe wefts are used in S and Z alternately, two picks of each, so that the torques of neighbouring picks oppose and the cloth does not skew — a whole-cloth version of the imbalance count that decides whether a knit leans. And the cloth is woven with a hard-twisted weft and an ordinary warp, because a warp under tension for hundreds of metres would snarl at every stop.
What the twist costs
Everything above is a description of what the twist buys. The bill is on the strength curve.
There is a second cost that is subtler and is about predictability rather than strength.
And a third, which is the one the cloth is actually bought for: a crepe yarn is dull. The fibres lie at 40° to the yarn’s axis, so a surface covered in them has no direction along which parallel cylinders reflect together. The same geometry that gives a satin its lustre — a long uninterrupted length of thread lying one way — is here disrupted at the fibre scale rather than at the float scale. A crepe is matt by construction, and that is a large part of why it is used.
The construction, which follows from all of it
Take the three costs together and the way a crepe cloth is actually built stops looking like tradition.
Plain weave, because the torque has to be resisted at as many crossings as possible and plain has the most. A crepe woven on a float weave skews and snarls.
Hard-twisted weft, ordinary warp, because a warp is under tension for hundreds of metres through the loom and a lively yarn snarls at every stop mark. The weft is thrown, held for a moment, and beaten up.
Alternating S and Z, in pairs of picks, so the torques of neighbouring picks oppose and the cloth does not run off square.
Open sett, because the buckling needs somewhere to go: a thread that is too long for its space cannot buckle if the space is full. This is the same constraint a honeycomb works under and it is why crepe cloths are set noticeably more openly than plain cloths of the same yarn.
And a wet relaxation as the last step, without which the cloth is a rather weak plain weave with nothing on its surface at all.
Every one of the five is a consequence of a number in this essay, and none of them is a consequence of the weave matrix — which is the sense in which a crepe cloth’s construction is not in its draft.
Two crepes, one fabric
Set the two mechanisms side by side, because they produce fabrics that are sold under one name and are structurally unrelated.
The crepe weave puts the irregularity in the matrix: a draft arranged so that no repeat is visible, with floats of assorted lengths scattered so that the surface has no line in it. It can be woven from ordinary yarn, it has ordinary strength, and its texture is exactly as regular as its repeat — which is to say, regular at a scale large enough not to be seen.
The crepe yarn puts the irregularity nowhere the matrix can reach. The draft is plain. The texture is the buckling of threads that are too long for their spaces, at positions decided by friction.
The pair is a good example of a general point this collection keeps meeting: a fabric’s appearance underdetermines its structure. A honeycomb gets its cells in the wash and a seersucker gets its stripes at the loom, and both look like a cloth with a raised pattern. Deciding which mechanism produced a given cloth requires unweaving it, and in the crepe case the test is simple: unpick a thread and see whether it snarls.
The retraction is quadratic where the strength is not
Two quantities in this essay depend on the twist and they depend on it in ways that pull apart, which is why a crepe twist is where it is rather than anywhere else.
Read the retraction table as a shape and it accelerates: 4.1 per cent at 800 turns a metre, 8.5 at 1,200, 13.8 at 1,600, 19.3 at 2,000. Each step of four hundred turns costs more retraction than the one before it, because the retraction is one minus the mean cosine of an angle whose tangent is rising linearly — so it starts flat and steepens, and it has no limit short of the yarn tying itself in knots.
The strength does the opposite. Past the maximum the realisation falls, and it falls gently at first and then faster: from 0.771 at the optimum to 0.562 at a crepe twist is twenty-seven per cent lost, spread over more than a doubling of the twist factor.
So the thing being bought accelerates and the thing being paid accelerates too, and the crepe twist is where the first has become large enough to be worth the second. That is not an optimum in any computable sense — nothing here can price a pebbled surface against a newton — but it does explain why the crepe range is narrow and why it sits so far out. Below about 1,200 turns a metre the retraction is too small to buckle a cloth and the strength is barely touched; the yarn is simply a hard-twisted yarn. Above about 2,000 the retraction is enormous and so is the loss, and the yarn is difficult to handle at every stage before the loom.
Between those two the retraction has grown by a factor of two and a quarter and the realisation has fallen by a fifth. That ratio is the whole of what a crepe twist buys, and it is favourable only because the retraction curve is the steeper of the two over exactly that stretch.
It also says what would change the answer. A fibre with a flatter strength curve — one whose obliquity loss is smaller, which is to say one whose fibres migrate — would tolerate a higher crepe twist for the same strength cost, and the retraction would be larger still. That is a prediction the migration bracket cannot settle, and it is the one place in this essay where the bracket’s width has a consequence a mill would notice.
It also puts a floor under the fibre choice. A short-stapled or coarse fibre needs more twist to be gripped at all, so it arrives at the crepe range having already spent part of its budget on cohesion rather than on retraction — which is a second reason, quite separate from the finish, that crepe cloths are made from the finer and longer cottons and from silk. The fibre is not chosen for its handle; it is chosen because it reaches a forty-degree surface angle with something left over.
Why nobody sets a crepe from first principles
There is a practical note worth making, because this essay has priced several things and predicted none of them.
A cloth designer working with ordinary yarn can compute a great deal before weaving: the cover, the crimp, the weight, the sett a warp will take, the air a cloth will pass. Every one of those computations goes through a diameter and a construction, and both are known.
A crepe cloth defeats all of it at once. Its diameter is a hard-twisted yarn’s, so the packing factor is far from the one this collection uses; its finished sett is a relaxation away from its woven sett and the relaxation is not computed here; its surface is a buckling nobody predicts; and its strength sits inside a bracket half again as wide as an ordinary yarn’s.
So crepe is the fabric this collection is least able to describe, and the reason is not that crepes are exotic. It is that every quantity the arithmetic needs is evaluated at the edge of the range the arithmetic was built for. That is worth saying plainly rather than leaving as an impression: an essay that computes six numbers about a fabric and cannot predict its most obvious property has located a boundary, and locating boundaries is most of what a collection like this one can honestly do at its edges.
What was counted, and how
The retraction is the integral this collection already had, checked against its own closed form to a part in a million at two thousand quadrature points, and quoted here at four twist levels rather than at one so that the shape is visible.
The realisation figures come from the strength curve with its stated contact efficiency, and the comparison made is between two points on one curve — a crepe twist against the same yarn’s optimum — which is a ratio the fitted number very nearly cancels out of.
The bracket at 40° is a closed form checked against its integral, and it is quoted because the uncertainty is the point rather than the value.
Where the model stops
Nothing here computes the pebble. The buckling of a thread that is too long for its space is a post-buckling problem in a system with friction at every crossing, and this collection has a criterion for whether a cloth can carry a push and nothing that predicts the wavelength or the amplitude of what happens after it cannot. The mechanism is argued; the surface is not computed.
How much the yarn untwists is not computed either. It depends on the torsional rigidity of the yarn, on the friction at the crossings and on how wet the cloth is, and the first of those is a quantity this collection declines to supply in the folded-yarn case for the same reason.
The retraction is quoted for a fully relaxed yarn. In the cloth only part of it is released, because the crossings hold and because the yarn does not fully untwist, so the shrinkage a crepe cloth actually shows is a fraction of the table above rather than the table itself.
The lustre claim is geometric and is not a reflectance model, in the same way and for the same reason as every other optical statement in this collection.
And the twist is treated as uniform along the yarn. It is not: twist runs from thin places to thick ones, so a crepe yarn’s liveliness varies along its own length with its own irregularity — which is very likely part of why the pebble is as irregular as it is, and is not something this collection can quantify.
One more consequence follows and it is a commercial one. Because so little of a crepe can be computed, crepe constructions are inherited rather than designed: a mill runs the setts and twists that worked, and a new crepe is developed by weaving samples. That is a reasonable response to the arithmetic above, and it is worth distinguishing from the cases where the trade proceeds by trial because nobody has done the calculation.
Where the ladder goes next
Back into the finishing, where the untwisting is actually released. A crepe cloth is a fabric whose finishing route is its construction, in the way that a honeycomb’s is — and the sequence, the temperature and the tension decide the surface as much as the yarn does.
And sideways into the other place a very high twist appears: the voile and the organdie, where the same hard twist is used not for texture but to make a fine open cloth stiff enough to hold its shape. The mechanism is the retraction again, resisted rather than released, and the yarn is chosen at the same angle for the opposite reason.
What links here
Computed from the collection rather than written here: the essays that point at this one.
Reads more easily once this is understood
Essays that name this one as worth reading first.
Shares its objects with
Essays naming at least two of the same things, that neither author linked.
- The folding rule is a surface angle — both name helix angle, lustre, twist factor
- Twist and the twill line — both name helix angle, lustre, twist factor
- What a high-twist yarn costs a cloth — both name helix angle, shrinkage, twist factor
- A cabled yarn is a fold of folds — both name helix angle, twist factor
- A cloth cannot shrink past its own crimp — both name relaxation, shrinkage
- A cloth relaxes until its threads stop pushing — both name relaxation, shrinkage
Named objects
A flat tag is an object no other essay names yet.
Fibre migrationHelix angleLustreObliquityRelaxationShrinkageTwist factorWeave matrix