The channel through a muslin in 2/2 twill
A cut across a muslin woven 2/2 twill, at 373 µm per hundred pixels, showing one hole between two warp ends. The ends sit at different levels here, so the clear width between them is 276 µm at the waist against 250 µm straight through. The profile on the right is that width at every height in the 334 µm the threads occupy: the passage is an hourglass, its narrowest section is 274 µm across, and the band that every level contains — what a straight line of sight can use — is 250 µm. The two differ by 9.9 per cent, and the difference is the weave and nothing else.
9 essays call
through-section. 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.
A hole is a channel, not an opening
Every hole drawn so far has been drawn from above, and the sentence underneath every one of them says the same thing: the hole between four threads is the spacing less the diameter, and every hole is the same size. That is a picture of a cloth's shadow. A cloth has a thickness, so its hole has a length, and the narrowest place along it is not the place a person looking through can see.
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.
Only a plain weave has one size of hole
A weave's holes come in kinds, and the kinds are read off the matrix. Asking which weaves have only one kind looks like a question with an obvious answer and a one-line proof. Every draft at four by four was built and asked instead, and the count came back fourteen — of which twelve turn out to be telling the truth about the sett rather than about the weave.
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.
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 pore that wicks is the pore that leaks
A cloth's water resistance and a cloth's wicking are one expression, read at the two ends of a contact angle. The geometry cannot be chosen to give both, because it is the same geometry; the only thing that decides which a fabric does is a finish. And the two questions do not even read the same pore — a rise is set by the finest and a leak by the coarsest, so the same cloth lifts water three metres and holds it back at fifty-six millimetres.
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.