How far each fibre swells in water
Transverse swelling in water for every fibre this site carries, with the axial swelling and the ratio of the two beside it. The bars are the width change; the numbers after them are the length change, which is a hundredth or less for every natural fibre here. That asymmetry is the whole of why water is a structural question: a fibre that grew equally in both directions would make a cloth bigger and change none of the ratios of a diameter to a spacing that this site computes with. What the bars cannot show is their own uncertainty — every figure here is a measurement with a spread, and viscose's runs from 25 to 52 per cent.
12 essays call
wet-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.
What water does to a thread
A cotton fibre in water is a fifth wider and a hundredth longer. If it grew equally in both directions a wet cloth would simply be a bigger cloth and nothing structural would follow; because it does not, every ratio of a diameter to a spacing in a cloth moves, and they all move the same way.
A yarn's voids are not enough
A ring-spun cotton yarn is sixty per cent fibre and forty per cent air, and its fibres gain forty-four per cent of area in water. The obvious thought is that the air takes it. The arithmetic says the air cannot, and gives a floor on how far the yarn itself must grow with no measurement of a yarn in it anywhere.
A knit's change of state is not its swelling
A jersey is smaller wet-relaxed than dry-relaxed, by 5.7 per cent along its courses and 2.4 across its wales. Water is obviously involved, so the swelling is the obvious cause. Two things rule it out, and both are properties of the constants rather than measurements of a fabric.
A wetting supplies the force the criterion needs
This collection's criterion decides whether a cloth is one cloth, exactly, and cannot see friction — so pricing what it misses needed a contact force, and the only one available had a measured fabric thickness inside it. A wetted close cloth generates one from geometry alone, and it lands within seven per cent of the measured route's answer.
The swelling a cloth cannot take
Three of the eight cloths in this collection's table have no wet state at all. A thread of fixed length cannot wrap a partner that has grown by a fifth, so the closure condition fails and the geometry has nothing to offer. What happens instead costs megapascals, and the alternative route is not merely dearer but unavailable — the thread would break first.
Two shrinkages, one tape measure
A cloth that comes out of a wash smaller has done two different things and the tape cannot tell them apart. One is geometric, recoverable and finished in minutes; the other is frictional, permanent and needs agitation. This collection can now compute both, and they have different signatures.
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.
A wet cloth is set closer than it was woven
Cover is a diameter over a spacing. Wetting moves the diameter and does not move the spacing, so every cover factor on this site is multiplied by exactly the swelling ratio and every jamming sett divided by it — which is an identity, and the one statement in this ladder a reader can check by hand.
Water tells two fibres apart
Cotton and viscose are the same material by every constant this collection carries. Same density, same modulus, same fineness, so the same diameter at every count and the same crimp, cover, jamming sett and bending bracket. A wash separates them by a factor of two, and it is the only thing here that can.
Wetting moves a cloth to another locus
A cloth's constant-thread-length locus is built at a fixed thickness. Swelling changes the thickness, so a wetted cloth is not somewhere else on its own locus — it is on a different one, and the distance between the two least-energy states is the shrinkage. Five of the eight cloths here have a wet state, and one of them gets bigger.
A cotton's own water is a twentieth of what a cloth holds
A wet cloth keeps water in three places and only one of them is the fibre. A sheeting saturated holds 113 per cent of its own dry weight: 7.5 per cent of that inside the cotton as regain, 39 per cent in the channels between the fibres of its yarns, and 54 per cent in the holes four threads bound. The same construction in polyester, whose regain is a fortieth of cotton's, holds 105 per cent — an eight-point difference from a fortyfold one, because absorbency is a geometry with a fibre in it rather than a fibre with a geometry round it.
A wet fibre is stiffer and a wet yarn is not locked
The intuitive reason a damp cloth stiffens is that water pulls the fibres together — a meniscus is curved, the pressure inside it is below atmospheric, and the suction presses the assembly exactly as twist does. Computed, that suction is worth the first 186 turns a metre of twist and nothing after them: six per cent of what an ordinary yarn's twist already supplies, and nowhere near enough to stop the fibres sliding. What wetting actually does is fatten the fibres, and a fibre's bending rigidity goes as the fourth power of its diameter — so a wet cotton fibre is 2.07 times as stiff with no contact in the argument at all.