What a muslin passes, against how closely it is set
A muslin's air permeability at 100 Pa as the sett is closed from 6.9 to 34.2 threads per centimetre, with the two paths separated. The channels between the threads carry 8285 mm/s at the open end and 1330 at the close one, and they go to zero when the cloth jams. The threads themselves carry 1.7 to 6.4 mm/s and never go to zero at all, because a thread is sixty per cent fibre whatever the sett is. Extended to a cloth with no channel left, that path is 8.1 mm/s — a floor set by the yarn rather than by the construction, and a specification asking for less has asked for a fabric that cannot be woven from this yarn at any sett.
17 essays call
pass-curve. The drawing above is what it returns with no arguments at all; every
call below passes it something, because a placement that passes nothing draws whichever
member of the family the generator happens to default to rather than the weave its essay
argues about.
Where it is called
Changing this generator changes every one of these figures.
Two layers are the product on average and nowhere
Everybody knows what two layers of a cloth pass: the product of their open areas. That figure is exactly right — it is the mean of the true answer over every way the two layers can lie — and it is the answer at two registrations out of a continuum. In register a doubled cloth is as open as a single one; half a thread out it can be shut completely. The variation across a folded curtain is what a moiré is.
Opacity is not cover
The covering rule counts a thread as a bar that stops everything, and a single fine cotton thread held to a window plainly does not. What a cloth transmits is the open area plus whatever comes through the threads, so the covered fraction is a lever rather than a barrier — and the lever is longest exactly where the rule says the cloth is most closed. Nothing here computes a thread's transmittance, and saying why is the useful half.
A knit has no hole to lose
Every argument in this ladder is planar: threads at a spacing, a rectangle between four of them, a channel down it. Applied to a jersey it returns nothing at all, and the nothing is the finding. A loop's occupancy is its diameter times Munden's own stitch-density constant over its loop length, with no gauge and no fabric dimension in it — and the whole commercial range of tightness is on the wrong side of the threshold.
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.
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.
The fourth power is a close cloth's rule
Every account of a fabric's air permeability quotes the same thing: flow down a channel goes as the fourth power of its width, so a small change of sett is a large change of flow. That is Poiseuille's result, it is about the viscous drop, and in an open cloth the viscous drop is two per cent of the pressure. The rule becomes true as the cloth closes, and where it starts being true is a number.
A satin's hole is a slot
Two cloths at the same cover have the same open area, exactly, and do not pass the same air. A float lays parallel threads side by side and the hole beside them is long rather than square, and drawing a hole out at constant area cuts what it passes to two fifths — because the hydraulic diameter falls and the shape factor climbs, and both of them move the same way.
One minus the cover is a cloth with no thickness
The covering rule says a cloth's openness is one minus its cover factor, and this collection derived it and has used it ever since. It is the answer for a light directly behind the cloth. Move the light and a line of sight has to clear the hole at the top of the fabric and the same hole one thickness below, so the openness falls, and it reaches nothing at thirty-six degrees. Averaged over the whole sky a muslin is a seventh as open as the rule says.
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.
Warmth is a thickness of air
A fabric is a tenth fibre and the rest air, so its thermal conductivity is a mixture of the two — and the pair of bounds that any mixture must lie between comes out narrower than the difference between wool and nylon. The model cannot tell one fibre from another in a cloth. What it can tell, exactly and with no bracket at all, is that twice the thickness is twice the warmth.
Half the air goes through a tenth of the holes
A permeability computed from the average hole says nothing about which holes the air uses. Once the threads have a spread, the answer is: not many of them — and in a close cloth, half the flow leaves through less than a tenth of the openings.
A sheer hides whichever side is darker
A net curtain hides a room by day and shows it at night, and the cloth has nothing to do with which. What a viewer sees through a sheer is an image through its clear lines of sight against a veil of lit thread, and the only thing that decides their balance is how much brighter one side is than the other. At equal light the two views are identical for every cloth there is. And a black sheer of the same openness shows twelve times more of the room by day than a white one.
A figured sheer is a negative from one side
A net curtain with a pattern in it carries two patterns, one for each side, and by day they are opposites. A more open figure in a white voile is a dark figure a quarter below its ground from the street and a light one five per cent above it from the room, and after dark the two views trade places exactly. The figure vanishes from the street at one light ratio and from the room at another. And a figure can be made that the room cannot see at all while the street sees it nearly black — along one line of openness and thread tone, and never from both sides at once.
A net in front gives the figure to the room
The commonest double curtain is a plain net outside a patterned one, and the plain net does not merely dim the pattern. It weakens the figure from the street by a factor of three and a half and strengthens it from the room by a quarter, so a pattern four and a half times stronger outside than in becomes one the room sees slightly better. A figure designed to be invisible from indoors reappears at nearly three per cent, and the day-and-night exchange a single curtain obeyed exactly stops holding at all.
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.