Field

Cloth doing a job

What happens when a fabric has to meet a specification rather than merely be described. A reinforcement that must hold fibre and still admit resin, a filter that must retain the soil and still pass water, a seam that must grip harder than the load without perforating the cloth, a pattern cut for a shape it does not yet have. Every requirement here is a pair of inequalities on quantities the earlier fields compute — and the useful answer is sometimes that no fabric satisfies both.

$How much fibre a woven reinforcement holds. A unit cell of a woven reinforcement in section: flat tows, the thickness they add up to, and the wave the warp makes to cross them. The bar below is the fibre volume fraction against the same tows laid flat in two plies and against the packing factor of a tow, which is the most any cloth of them could be. The vertical scale is exaggerated so the interlacing is legible; the horizontal scale is the cloth's own.$

The crimp is the price of being cloth

A woven reinforcement is bought for stiffness along its fibres, and the usual explanation of what it gives up — fibre content, lost to the crimp — has the sign wrong. At a given thickness a woven fabric holds slightly more fibre than two flat plies of the same tows. What the crimp costs is stiffness, and the float length is the knob.

A fabric to fill and a fabric to load

A reinforcement has to hold as much fibre as possible and still let a resin through it, and the two demands are the same decision pulling opposite ways. Both bounds are computable, the interval between them narrows as the square of the part, and past a certain size it is empty — which is the most useful thing the arithmetic says.

Two sections, one yarn. The same yarn given a circular cross-section and a racetrack one of equal area, both jammed. The spacing the two models allow is nearly the same; the cover and the cloth thickness they predict are not.

A tow is not a yarn

Every geometric model on this site assumes a thread with a diameter. A reinforcement tow has a width and a thickness instead, and the two are eight to one — which moves the jammed sett, the crimp, the cover and the cloth's thickness at once, in four different directions, from one change.

The third index is not a repeat

The fancy weaves left three-dimensional weaving open as a possible fifth escape from the binary matrix. It is not one. The criterion that decides whether a plain weave is one cloth decides a five-layer preform unchanged — and what a third dimension actually takes away is periodicity, because a thickness has a top and a bottom and a repeat does not.

The hole between four threads

A woven cloth's holes are all the same size. That is not an approximation — it is what a repeat means — and it is the whole reason a woven filter is specified by one number while a nonwoven needs a curve. The number is the spacing less the diameter, which this site has been computing since its first questions about setting.

A filter cloth has two jobs

Hold the soil back and pass the water. The first wants a close sett and the second wants an open one, so a filter cloth is not a fabric but an interval — one that is sometimes a single sett wide, and for a fine enough soil is empty. The empty case is the useful one, because it says the answer is not a woven cloth at all.

$What a balanced cloth wastes under pressure. The fraction of a balanced fabric's fibre that is along for the ride, in a stress field of each ratio. A closed cylinder is exactly two to one — the ratio of the two areas the pressure acts on — so a balanced cloth reaches its limit around the circumference with the axial system at half its capacity, and a quarter of the fibre is doing nothing.$

An inflated cylinder wants an unbalanced cloth

Balance is a virtue in almost every other cloth. Under pressure it is a defect with a size — a closed cylinder carries exactly twice the stress around its circumference as along its axis, so a balanced fabric reaches its limit in one direction with a quarter of its fibre doing nothing at all.

The angle a pressurised hose wants. A fixed length of yarn wound on a cylinder at a stated angle, with the radius and length the geometry gives, beside the volume it encloses as the angle varies. The maximum is at arctan √2 — 54.74° — with no material constant anywhere in it, and the same angle comes out of balancing the hoop and axial stresses, which is a different calculation with the same answer.

The angle a hose wants

A braided hose has one angle at which pressure neither lengthens it nor shortens it, and the angle is arctan √2 — 54.74° — with no friction coefficient, no modulus and no fitted constant in it. Two arguments that share no algebra arrive at the same number, and which side of it a hose was braided on decides which way it moves.

A membrane is cut smaller than it is

A tensioned fabric roof is cut to a pattern smaller than the shape it will take, because stressing it makes it grow. At a fixed cloth thickness a prestress can only interchange crimp — one direction grows and the other shrinks — so everything that makes both directions grow is the crossings flattening, which is the one quantity here this site cannot compute.

Where a bias cut's waste actually is. A bolt of cloth with panels placed at a stated angle, the ones that fit drawn and the rest of the cloth left shaded. Identical panels at a single angle tile the plane exactly, so the interior of the bolt loses nothing at all and the whole of the waste is at the two selvedges. The inset is the single-panel bounding box, which is the picture the usual account of bias cutting draws.

The bias cut and the selvedge

A bias-cut square costs exactly twice its own area, and every other shape costs more. That is an exact result about one panel — and it is not where a cutting room's waste comes from, because identical panels at one angle tile the plane. The loss is at the two selvedges, so it falls as the cloth gets wider, which no account in terms of the diagonal can explain.

How much of the curvature a cloth can take without being cut. The dart angle a spherical cap still demands after the fabric's own shear has absorbed what it can, against how closely the cloth is set. The total the cap demands is fixed by Gauss–Bonnet and is the same for all of them; what changes is how much of it the trellis can supply before its threads jam. An open cloth drapes a hemisphere with no dart at all; a closely set one has to be cut from the start.

A hemisphere costs one full turn

The total angle a pattern must remove to cover a hemisphere is exactly 360 degrees, and it is the same for a hat and for a stadium dome. What changes with the fabric is how much of that the cloth can supply by shearing instead of by being cut — and that is a property of the sett, computed from the angle at which its threads jam.

What holds a thread in a seam

A seam fails in two quite different ways, and the one the trade worries about is not the stitches breaking. It is the cloth's own threads sliding out of the weave beside the seam — and what resists that is friction at the crossings, accumulating multiplicatively, so a satin gives a seam a thousandth of the grip a plain weave gives it.

The stitch density that makes the strongest seam. Seam strength against stitch density, as the two limits that decide it: the sewing thread crossing the seam, which rises with the stitches, and the fabric the needle perforates, which falls. The seam is the lower of the two, so the optimum is where they cross — and whether the fabric line falls at all is decided by the clear gap between threads against the width of the needle.

The stitch that weakens the seam

More stitches per centimetre put more sewing thread across a seam and more holes through the cloth beside it, so seam strength rises, crosses and falls. Whether the fabric line falls at all is decided by the clear gap between two threads against the width of the needle — the same arithmetic a filter cloth is specified by, doing a different job.

A cloth does not mind a hole

A hole in a film costs it two thirds of its strength whatever the hole's size, because a continuum concentrates stress at an edge. A cloth's threads carry their own load and hand almost nothing to their neighbours, so a hole costs exactly the threads it removes — a loss that is linear in the hole, independent of the sett, and zero for a slit along the load.

A tear breaks threads or pulls them out. The grip a cloth has on a thread at the tip of a tear, against the sett, with the thread's own strength drawn across. Below the line the thread slides and the yarns group, which is the trade's explanation of why a loose weave tears well; above it the thread breaks where it is and grouping never happens. The essay that asked it could not compute this: it needed a friction, and the fancy weaves supplied one.

A tear stops where the grip is

This collection asked whether a loose weave tears better and had to answer that the geometry could not say — it supplies a grip count and a slack, and neither is a force. The fancy weaves brought a friction. With it the question has an answer — a cloth's threads slide up to a computable sett and break above it — and a ripstop grid has a bound with no free parameter in it.

Two pore systems in one cloth — 24 threads per centimetre. A plain weave of 20 tex cotton in section, at 24 threads per centimetre, so the yarn is 167 µm across and the clear hole between two picks is 250 µm. That hole's hydraulic radius is 124.8 µm. Inside the yarn, fibres 14 µm across packed at 0.6 leave spaces of hydraulic radius 2.33 µm — 53 times finer, and by Jurin's law 53 times higher: 6.37 m against 119 mm. The yarn's interior is magnified 6 times and the two discs at the foot are the only part drawn at one scale.

How high a cloth wicks

A woven cloth has two capillary systems and they are a factor of twenty to a hundred apart. The one every diagram draws — the hole between four threads — lifts 119 mm. The one nobody draws, inside the yarn, lifts 6.37 m.

A front on a thread with 8 per cent crimp. Three rows at one scale. The top row is the warp end laid out straight, with the wetted front marked at four equal quarters of its own length — which is where Washburn's law puts it at four times whose square roots are evenly spaced. The middle row is the same thread crimped at 8 per cent, so it covers 92.6 per cent of the paper the straight one did. The bottom row is the cloth, and the four fronts on it are the four above pulled back by 1.08. A coefficient is a length squared over a time, so it comes down by 1.1664 — exactly (1 + c)², with no property of the liquid or the fibre in it. The thread's thickness is not drawn and neither is the liquid: a meniscus in a 2.33 µm pore is finer than any line on this canvas.

Wicking is slower along a crimped thread

A front travelling up a warp end travels the thread's path, which is longer than the cloth by exactly the crimp. So the wicking coefficient measured on the fabric is the yarn's own divided by (1 + c)² — 14.3 per cent lost at eight per cent crimp, whatever the liquid.

A coating over the hole it has to bridge. Four warp ends of 40 tex seen end-on at 20 per centimetre, with a 120 micrometre PVC film over them. The film is supported everywhere it lies on a thread and unsupported over the 252 micrometre clear span between them, which is the same span at every hole in the repeat. The film's thickness is drawn to scale against that span; the bulge is exaggerated. At 20 MPa the film will hold at most 381 bar, which is a bound and not a prediction.

A coated cloth fails at its holes

Spread a film over a fabric and it is supported everywhere it lies on a thread and unsupported over every hole. A woven cloth's holes are all the same size — exactly, because a repeat is a repeat — so the film has one span to bridge and the fabric has a burst pressure rather than a distribution. A nonwoven gives it a distribution, and a membrane fails at the largest hole it meets.

Which seams slip and which break. For each cloth, the grip a 10 mm seam allowance offers divided by the thread's own breaking load. Above one the fabric or the thread gives first and the seam holds until it does; below one the threads slide out and the seam opens with the cloth intact. voile, batiste, poplin, sheeting break; cheesecloth, muslin, duck, filter slip. The allowance that would save every cloth in the table is 74 mm, which is set by the openest of them alone. What the chart cannot show is the stitching itself, which has its own strength and its own way of cutting the threads it passes through.

A seam slips before it breaks

A sewn seam fails in one of two ways and the trade names them separately: the threads pull out of the cloth beside the stitching, or something breaks. Which one a given cloth does is decided by whether its seam allowance clears the length at which grip beats strength — and at the ordinary ten millimetres, the table divides four against four.

The size of the capstan correction. The ratio of the capstan crossover to the crossover a sum of independent contacts gives, for every cloth in the table at a friction coefficient of 0.30. It is exactly ln(1 + z)/z, where z is the thread's breaking load times the wrap angle, over the contact force — a quantity with no friction coefficient in it at all. That is why the earlier result that μ·L* is exactly constant survives this correction to twelve figures: μ was only ever in the factor outside the logarithm. The correction is largest for the duck, whose coarse strong yarn makes z large, and smallest for the batiste. What the rows cannot show is that a real cut edge frays at a friction nobody measured on that particular cloth.

How far a cut edge frays

A seam allowance, a fray width and a tuft's bound length are the same number wearing three hats, and the earlier estimate of it was four times too long. Correcting it moves the whole table across the boundary an ordinary allowance sits on — from four cloths holding and four slipping, to all eight holding — and turns a specification argument into a different one.

Shrinkage from wetting, cloth by cloth. The change in each cloth's relaxed construction when its threads swell by 20% across and 1.2% along. Both states are least-energy states of their own constant-thread-length locus, which is the only comparison the locus admits: its minimum is a state at its own sett, so it may be compared with another minimum and not with a quoted construction. Positive is smaller. Every cloth that has a wet state closes up except the cheesecloth, which opens by half a per cent because the fibre's extra hundredth of length outruns the extra crimp a thicker partner costs. What the bars cannot show is the three cloths that are missing, which have no wet state at all.

A garment is cut dry and worn wet

A cutting allowance is one number and the thing it allows for is two, in two directions. Worse: when the two directions differ, a panel cut on the bias does not merely shrink — it rotates, by half a degree for an ordinary poplin, which is nine and a half millimetres of skew across a metre and is invisible to a tape measure.

$The shear a dome demands, against how far round it the cloth reaches. A flat sheet of inextensible threads takes a double curvature only by shearing, and the shear it needs depends on how far round the dome it has to reach rather than on how big the dome is — a knee, a shoulder and a beach ball demand exactly the same at the same fraction of their own radius. The horizontal line is the locking angle for a sheeting, where the threads are touching side by side and the mechanism has nowhere left to go. Reaching one radius round takes the cloth to 85% of that, and reaching 1.2 radii passes it. What the plot cannot show is the frictional part: a shear well inside the locking angle is still a shear at crossings friction is holding, so a knee that is domed a thousand times keeps a little of each one.$

A knee is a dome imposed a thousand times

A flat sheet of inextensible threads takes a double curvature only by shearing, and how much shear it needs depends on how far round the dome it has to reach — not on how big the dome is. So a knee and a beach ball demand the same, and a trouser knee covered to its own equator is at 85 per cent of the angle at which the threads touch side by side.

A filter is rated by the hole it does not show

A woven filter cloth is sold on two numbers pulling opposite ways: an opening small enough to hold the soil and an open area large enough to pass the water. Both are computed from the same holes, and they are not computed from the same statistic of them. One reads the maximum and the other reads the mean, so a change that improves either can worsen the other without moving a single measurable property of the cloth.

A cloth stops having holes before it stops passing air

Close a woven cloth up and the channels between its threads shut. What passes through it does not go to zero, because a thread is sixty per cent fibre and forty per cent air and stays that way whatever is done to the construction. So a fabric's permeability has a floor, the floor belongs to the yarn rather than to the weaver, and no sett on any loom reaches it.

Four ways of closing a muslin, and the floor under all of them. The same muslin at four states: as woven, calendered to 3:1, wetted so its fibres swell by 20 per cent, and with the channel between its threads gone altogether. Air permeability at 100 Pa falls from 3505 mm/s to 8.1 — a factor of 434 — and stops there. The last figure is not a cloth with no holes in it: it is a cloth whose only remaining path is through the threads, which are sixty per cent fibre whatever is done to the construction. That number is the floor, it is a property of the yarn, and no sett reaches it. Note that the two middle routes are not in a fixed order: a 3:1 calender closes more than this swelling and a 2:1 calender closes less, so which is the stronger depends on how far each is taken.

A windproof cloth is at its yarn's limit

Windproof is a threshold on air permeability, and it is the only fabric specification on this site that the construction cannot settle. No weavable sett of an ordinary shirting yarn gets within two hundred times of it, layering the cloth barely helps because the resistance is inertial rather than viscous, and the floor set by the yarn's own porosity lands on the same order as the threshold with a fivefold bracket around it.

Where a muslin's warmth actually is. A muslin's own thermal resistance is 0.0108 m²K/W, and the still-air layer clinging to its outside is 0.12 — so 92 per cent of what a person is wearing is air that is not in the cloth. Wind takes it: the boundary layer thins as the square root of the speed, and above a few metres per second the air is also being driven straight through the fabric, which shorts out whatever resistance the fabric had. The pair leaves 22 per cent of the still-air value at 16 m/s. Both mechanisms take away air rather than cloth, which is why a windproof layer works and a thicker weave does not, and why the fibre — which the conductivity bracket could not separate anyway — never enters this figure.

The wind takes the air and not the cloth

A shirting's own thermal resistance is eight per cent of what a person wearing it has; the other ninety-two is a still-air layer half a millimetre thick clinging to its outside. Wind destroys both, and it destroys the larger one first and by a mechanism that has nothing to do with the fabric — so a windproof layer works by keeping air still rather than by resisting heat.

What a tear asks for is the weakest of a few. A tensile test pulls every thread in the width and averages them. A tear pulls the handful in the triangle at the tip of the cut, and what lets it move is whichever of those is weakest — so the quantity that governs is the minimum of a small sample, and two things follow that no mean can show. Its expectation is below the mean: at CV 15% the weakest of 4 is 0.853 of the mean thread, and the weakest of 40 is 0.718. And its scatter is enormous compared with a tensile test's: 10.9% against the 0.75% a mean of four hundred threads would show. A tear strength that varies by a tenth between specimens of the same cloth is not a badly run test. It is the only answer an extreme of four can give.

A tear asks fewer threads than a pull

A strip test averages a hundred threads and a tear interrogates four. That difference alone accounts for the two things everybody knows about tear testing — that it reads low, and that it scatters — without anything about the cloth being different between the two tests.

A missing end is a fault the length of the piece

A broken end and a mispick are the same size of accident — one thread — and they condemn areas that differ by a factor of thirty. The ratio is the aspect ratio of the piece and nothing else, which makes it a fact about how cloth is made rather than about what went wrong.

Folding, and what it takes out of the singles. Two 20 tex singles spun at 800 turns per metre and folded the other way at 460 — a ratio of 0.575, which is the trade's own and is a measurement rather than a derivation. A single held at its ends and wound round its neighbour turns about its own axis once for every turn of the fold, so it is left with 340 turns per metre of its own: its surface fibres lie at 10.1° to its axis rather than the 22.8° they were spun at. Folding untwists. The short strokes are drawn at that residual angle; the two long curves are centre lines and are not the yarn — each strand is itself a bundle of 118 fibres, and the residual angle is what holds them.

A sewing thread is a different animal

It is folded, balanced, lubricated and finished, and every one of those is an answer to a requirement no weaving yarn has. The lubricant is the interesting one: it makes the thread sewable by lowering the friction that was holding its own fibres together.

$A cloth loses its strength long before it loses its mass. Rubbing a 2/2 twill in sheeting down, plotted against how much of its own solid volume has gone. The lower curve is the fraction of the plan the rubbing is touching; the upper is the fraction of the warp's section that has been cut away. They are wildly different because the wear is spread and the damage is concentrated: material comes off the whole surface, but it comes off every thread at the same place, and a thread breaks at its thinnest place. At one per cent of the mass gone the section is already 5% smaller. That is why a fabric that looks barely worn fails a strength test, and why abrasion resistance measured as mass loss and abrasion resistance measured as residual strength are two different quantities that are quoted as one.$

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.

A seam stands 763 µm proud of a cloth 382 µm thick. A 10 mm seam allowance of 3 plies in a 60 mm panel of one, in sheeting. The seam stands 763 µm above the body of the garment — which is 102 times the depth at which the body cloth first comes into contact with anything at all. So a flat surface rubbed across this garment touches only the seam, over 16.7% of the area drawn, until it has crushed a whole thickness of fabric. Everything this collection computes about where wear lands on a woven surface applies inside that 16.7%, and the other 83.3% is not being touched.

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.

Abrasion takes the hairs first

An abrasion test reports milligrams lost against cycles, and the first milligrams off any fabric are not fabric. On a bare cloth that stage is over in a few thousand cycles. On a napped one it is not over by the end of the test, so a Martindale on a fleece never measures the fleece.

The strong fibre is the one that pills. Standing pills per unit area by fibre, relative to wool, at one and the same fuzz supply — every row is the same cloth raised the same amount, so the only thing varying is how long a pill survives once it exists. A pill is not made, it is kept: rubbing generates it and rubbing breaks the anchor fibres that hold it, and an anchor survives in proportion to how much force it takes to break. So polyester carries 18 times wool's standing population from the same generation rate, and the ordering here is exactly the ordering of tenacity and nothing else. Wool sheds its pills because wool anchors break. No two real fabrics have the same fuzz supply, which is why a wool knit still pills more than a cotton shirting in practice — the comparison drawn here isolates the anchor and says nothing about the generation, and reading it as a ranking of fabrics would be wrong.

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.

A fifth of a strong fibre buys most of its pilling. How long a pill survives on a wool fabric as nylon is blended into it, relative to the pure wool. A pill is held by several anchor fibres and survives while any of them holds, so its life is set by the strongest anchor it happens to have — and the chance that a pill with 8 anchors has at least one strong one is 1 − (1 − x)^8, which is already 83% at a fifth. The blend therefore gets 83% of the pure strong fibre's pill life while keeping the whole of the weak fibre's fuzz supply, which is the worst of both. Nine tenths of the way arrives by 30%. No average of the two fibres' properties produces this curve: it is a maximum over a small sample, and a maximum is not an average. It is also why a fifteen-per-cent polyamide in a wool knit is notorious, and the arithmetic says the reputation is deserved.

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.

Thirty micrometres is a buckling load. The wool fibre diameter at which a protruding end reaches the measured threshold for prickle, against how far it protrudes. A fibre end pressed against skin is a column held at the cloth and free to slide at its tip, so it buckles at 20.19EI/ℓ² and carries no more load than that; below the threshold it bends away and is felt as touch, above it the load stands and is felt as pain. At a two-millimetre protrusion — which this site's own hair model puts in the top fifth of a wool's population — the threshold diameter is 32 µm, bracketed at 29–34 by the range of the measured force. Neither the thirty micrometres nor the two millimetres was put in. The band is the force bracket, and the fourth power in I = πd⁴/64 is what makes the boundary sharp: at a mean of 21 µm and a spread of 24%, 3.2% of the fibres are over it, and it is that few per cent that decides whether a garment can be worn.

Prickle is a buckling load

The wool trade specifies comfort against skin by the percentage of fibres coarser than thirty micrometres, and the thirty is a measured boundary with no derivation attached. It is a column formula: solve for the diameter at which a protruding fibre end stops bending away and starts standing its ground, and thirty micrometres falls out.

$A woven filter catches what its rating says it cannot. What fraction of a particle stream is intercepted by the hair layer of a filter cloth, against particle size, at three levels of raising. The cloth's own largest opening is 290 µm, so by geometry it stops nothing smaller than that at all — and the hairs catch a few per cent of particles ten and a hundred times finer, because a particle whose path passes within its own radius of a hair touches it. On a bare cloth the numbers are small; the point is that they are not zero, because a cake grows from the particles that stop, and once a cake exists the cloth is no longer doing the filtering. Raising the same cloth 32-fold takes a ten-micrometre capture from 0.8% to 23%, which is why a napped filter cloth exists. Interception is taken as the bare geometric ratio of the two diameters with no flow model behind it, so every number here is a lower bound.$

A woven filter beats its own rating

A filter cloth's rating comes from the largest channel through it, and by geometry it stops nothing smaller. It stops a few per cent of particles ten times smaller anyway, on the fibre ends standing in its holes — and a few per cent is not filtration. It is exactly enough to start a cake, and after that the cloth is not filtering.

What holds a thread in, as two factors. The two quantities whose product is the grip on a buried thread, for a woven poplin and a jersey of the same yarn. Each contact in the knit is lighter by 8.0 times, and the contacts are further apart by 5.6 — one per half loop length against one per thread spacing. They multiply rather than competing, so the grip per millimetre of buried thread is 31 times weaker in the knit, and the crossover length at which a thread breaks rather than slides moves with it: 11.6 mm in the cloth and 461 in the knit. The two factors are drawn separately because their product is two orders of magnitude and a bar chart of it would put the knit's bar below the width of a line.

The knitted pilling criterion gets its number

Knitwear pills and shirting does not, and the standing explanation here has been that a knit presents more exposed yarn under less pressure between its threads. The second half had no number. It has one now, and it is bigger than the argument needed: the grip on a buried fibre is thirty times weaker in a knit than in a woven cloth of the same yarn.

What a run has to overcome. The friction holding one loop in the loop below it, against how tightly the fabric is knitted. It is the coefficient of friction times the contact force times the two interlacings a stitch makes, and it runs from 14.7 to 35.1 millinewtons across the knittable range — a factor of 2.4 for a factor of under two in tightness factor, because the contact force and the tightness move together. That is the arithmetic behind a rule every knitter has: a slack fabric runs and a tight one does not, and tightening it is the only lever that works. The figures are upper bounds, since a set yarn presses less.

A run is a race between two energies

A dropped stitch travels when a loop can be pulled out of the loop below it, and there are two candidate drivers: the energy the loop releases by unravelling, and the load the garment is under. One of them turns out to be negligible, and knowing which changes what a knitter can do about it.

What a knit gives when it is pulled. Force against course-wise extension for a 20 tex cotton jersey at a 3.5 mm loop, computed from the loop's own bending with the relaxed shape as the yarn's natural one. The loop length is the same at every point on the curve: nothing here is the yarn stretching. It reaches 92% extension at 2.96 N per metre and then stiffens by a factor of 85 over the rest of the range, as the straight line between two interlacings runs up against the yarn between them. This is the number the collection's second phase recorded as a lower bound it could not compute, and it is still a lower bound in one respect: friction at the contacts is not in it, so a real fabric is stiffer than this and does not come back along the same curve.

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.

$A knit's warmth is its thickness, and a rib's thickness is a machine setting. Thermal resistance in tog for a 20 tex cotton at a 3.5 mm loop, for a plain jersey and for a one-by-one rib at four bed gaps. The bar is the lower bound and the mark beyond it is the upper — Wiener's two bounds on a mixture of fibre and air at the fabric's own fibre fraction, which is 26.6% for the jersey and falls to 8.9% for the widest rib. The jersey holds 0.088 tog and the rib at five diameters 0.334 — a factor of 3.8, bought entirely by opening the beds. Every one of these is a small fraction of the still-air layer that clings to a garment's outside, which is worth about 1.2 tog on its own.$

A knit is warm because of where its yarn is not

Warmth is a thickness of still air, and until a knitted fabric had a thickness there was nothing to compute. It has one now, and the answer is that a rib's warmth is a machine setting: opening the beds from two diameters to five nearly trebles the fabric's resistance without changing a gram of yarn.

What a knitted band presses a limb with. Pressure against extension for a 20 tex cotton band at a 3.5 mm loop, wrapped round a 30 mm radius — a wrist. The pressure is the fabric's own tension per unit width divided by that radius, and the tension is the loop's bending with the relaxed shape as the yarn's natural one, so nothing here is fitted. Over the range a cuff is actually used across it runs from a twentieth of a millimetre of mercury to 0.85. The shaded bands are what a compression garment is specified at, and the curve does not reach the lowest of them until 277 per cent — which is not a cuff, it is a fabric stretched almost to the point where its yarn runs straight.

What a cuff presses with

A rib cuff holds a sleeve on a wrist, so it must be pressing. Divide its own recovery force by the radius it is wrapped round and the pressure comes out at eight tenths of a millimetre of mercury — a fiftieth of the lightest medical compression, and two orders below what the same fabric resists being squashed with.

A rib crosses a gap where a jersey crosses a diameter. A one-by-one rib in section across 5 wales, drawn at a bed gap of 3 yarn diameters — 0.501 mm — because the relaxed gap of a rib is a measurement this collection does not hold and every figure of one says what it was drawn at. Alternate wales sit on opposite beds, so every sinker loop between them travels the whole gap. In a jersey the same yarn climbs one diameter, 0.167 mm. That single difference takes the contact force from 38.30 mN at 11.7° out of the fabric to 72.51 mN at 16.2°, and the through-thickness part from 7.81 mN to 20.17 mN.

A run cannot cross a bed

A dropped stitch unroves because its neighbour above can pull it out along a path that costs almost nothing. In a rib the neighbour above is on the other bed, and the path goes through the gap — so a run in a two-bed fabric has to pay for a climb before it can take a single loop.

$A knot, and the tension falling through it. A 20 tex cotton thread wrapped through 1 turn at a bend radius of 1 yarn diameters, with a coefficient of friction of 0.30. The wrap is drawn as a spiral because a thread taken round a pin comes back beside itself rather than onto itself. The marks round it are the fraction of the entry tension still there: 100%, 69%, 47%, 32%, 22%, 15%. The bend has already spent 3.6% of strain at the outside of the thread before any of that happens, against a breaking strain of 6.6%. So the largest total is at the entry, before the knot has done any gripping at all — which is where a knot in a real yarn is observed to break, and why a knot's efficiency is a property of its first bend rather than of the knot.$

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.

A tube of an elastic band knitted 157 mm round, up one leg. A tube knitted 157 mm round from an elastic band, pulled up an illustrative leg and read at four stations. At each the tube is stretched by the leg's circumference over its own, pulls back with the band's tension at that stretch, and presses with that tension over the leg's radius: ankle 22 cm, stretched 40%, 20.0 mmHg; lower calf 29 cm, stretched 85%, 32.1 mmHg; calf 36 cm, stretched 129%, 39.4 mmHg; below the knee 34 cm, stretched 116%, 37.6 mmHg. The calf is pressed 1.97 times as hard as the ankle. What the bars cannot show is the leg's own give, which a firm tube flattens and which changes the radius the law divides by.

A tube of one size presses the calf harder than the ankle

A band presses a limb with its tension over the limb's radius, so it is easy to conclude that a band grips hardest where the limb is thinnest. That is true of a band held at one tension, and no knitted tube is. A tube knitted to one size is stretched further wherever the leg is thicker, and its tension rises faster than the radius does: an elastic tube pressing an ankle at twenty millimetres of mercury presses the calf at thirty-nine, and a cotton jersey tube presses its calf three and a half times as hard as its ankle. A stocking graduated the other way has to pull hardest where it presses less.

An inflated tube in section at 0.5, 1, 1.6 times its wrinkling moment. The cross-section of an inflated tube of 100 mm radius at 50 kPa, bent by 0.5 times, 1 times, 1.6 times its wrinkling moment of 78.5 N·m, with the outside of the bend at the top. Each stroke is the wall's axial tension at that point: the pressure's even 2.5 kN/m with the bending's cosine added. At half the wrinkling moment the inside is still in tension; at the wrinkling moment it falls to nothing; past it the inside has gone slack over a dashed arc and the rest carries both the pressure's end force and the moment. What the drawing cannot show is the wrinkles themselves, whose wavelength a cloth's bending stiffness decides and this section leaves out.

An inflated beam wrinkles at a moment with no cloth in it

An air-filled tube can be used as a beam because the pressure pulls its cloth taut along its length, and a cloth that cannot carry a push can carry a bending moment for exactly as long as that pull outweighs it. The inside of the bend goes slack at πpr³/2 and the tube folds at πpr³ — seventy-nine and a hundred and fifty-seven newton metres for a tube a fifth of a metre across at half a bar — and there is no property of the cloth in either. The cloth decides how far the beam bends on the way, and how much pressure it can be pumped to.

What the four-point system charges for a fault, and what the cutting room pays. For a single warp fault of each length: the points the four-point system scores it — one up to three inches, two to six, three to nine and four beyond — and the number of 900-millimetre panels it condemns. Below a panel's length every fault condemns exactly one panel while its points run from one to four, so the scheme charges four times as much for a fault that costs the same. Above a panel's length the panels grow without bound and the points stay at four, so the scheme stops charging exactly where the cost starts rising. A ten-metre fault scores 4 and condemns 12 panels. What the chart cannot show is the marker, which decides the panel size and therefore the whole of the second curve.

A grade charges by the length and a cutter pays by the panel

The four-point system scores a fault by how far it runs — one point to three inches, four beyond nine — and caps a linear metre at four points however many faults it holds. A cutting room pays by how many panels the fault lands in. Below a panel's length every fault costs exactly one panel while its score runs from one to four; above it the panels grow without bound and the score does not move at all. Two fifty-metre pieces built to the same 267 points a hundred square metres lose 33 per cent of their panels and 92.

The first 12 metres of a bolt, cut three ways. A bolt of 50 metres carrying 40 faults, with its first 12 metres drawn: the fault positions above, and below them the 900-millimetre panels a cutter gets cut blind, cut with the same rigid tiling slid to its best offset, and cut around the faults with the map in hand. Over the whole bolt the three yield 28, 30 and 40 sound panels of 55. Sliding the tiling buys 2; breaking it buys 12, which is 43 per cent more cloth from the same roll. What the strip cannot show is the width, across which the same argument runs again with a different panel dimension.

A fault map is worth most where the grade is worst

A cutter who knows where the faults are can slide the marker or break it, and only one of those is worth anything: sliding a rigid tiling to its best offset recovers two panels of fifty-five, and letting the tiling break recovers twelve — two panels in five more cloth from the same roll. The gain has a maximum in the middle of the range, because there is nothing to recover on a clean bolt and nothing to be done on a ruined one. And the prediction the grading essay made, that a map is worth most on a bolt whose faults are bunched, is false: bunching leaves clear runs for the blind cutter too.

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