The thread: A mechanism, not a material
The bias is a mechanism
Cloth cut at forty-five degrees stretches by a third and springs back, while the threads in it stretch by nothing at all. Almost every explanation given for this is wrong, and the right one is not about elasticity.
The loop
A knit is one thread bent into loops, each drawn through the loop below. Nothing in it is straight, which is why it stretches in every direction while a woven cloth stretches only at an angle.
What comes off the loom is not the cloth
Every number on this site so far describes a fabric in one particular condition — held under tension, stretched to the reed width, never wetted — and none of them says so. That condition lasts until the cloth is taken off the machine, which is the first thing that happens to it.
Crimp, and why cloth narrows when it is pulled
A thread in cloth is longer than the cloth it crosses. Pull the fabric one way and that extra length is taken out of one direction and put into the other, so the cloth gets narrower without a single fibre stretching.
Relaxation is the crimp coming back
A cloth that shrinks in the wash has not lost any thread. The thread is exactly as long as it was; more of its length is now spent going up and down rather than along, and the difference is the shrinkage, computable to the last figure from the woven geometry alone.
The locking angle
The bias runs out at an angle that yarn diameter and thread spacing decide between them. It is the number behind whether a cloth will go round a curve, and it has nothing to do with how strong the fabric is.
Why stockinette curls
A knitted loop is not symmetric front to back. Work every course the same way and the asymmetries add up along the edges; alternate them and they cancel. That is the whole difference between a fabric that rolls and one that lies flat.
Why clothes need darts
A flat cloth goes round a cylinder for nothing and cannot go round a sphere at all without shearing. The amount of shear is decided by the curvature, and when it exceeds what the threads allow, something has to be cut out.
Why the warp shrinks more
A woven cloth almost always loses more length than width, and the reason is not in the cloth. It is in the machine — the warp is held under tension for the whole of weaving and the weft is held for a fraction of a second — so the two systems arrive at the finishing works with different amounts of crimp missing.
Bending stiffness and the drape coefficient
Two standard measurements try to say how a fabric hangs. One measures a length and cubes it; the other measures an area and, on the geometry, turns out to be answering a different question from the one it is asked.
Warp knitting, which is a different thing entirely
Every wale has its own thread, and if the thread never leaves its wale the fabric is a set of independent cords. Whether a lapping makes cloth is decided by a coprimality condition — the satin theorem, in a knit.
Pre-shrinking is a subtraction done in advance
A compressive-shrinkage machine takes four per cent out of a cloth before anybody buys it, and the label then quotes what is left. The two numbers are fractions of different lengths, so they cannot be subtracted — and the difference between doing that correctly and incorrectly is most of the number.
Rib and interlock
A rib fabric is a plain knit folded like a concertina, and its enormous widthwise stretch is the fold opening out. Nothing in it is elastic, and the extension available is a cosine.
Shear locking in a composite preform
Laying a woven reinforcement over a mould is the bias mechanism doing useful work, and it stops dead at the angle where the threads jam. Where the cloth wrinkles is a geometric prediction with a radius attached.
A drape coefficient is one number for a directional thing
A fabric bends more easily one way than the other — a factor of two is ordinary. The drape test reports a single percentage, and the quantity that carries the directionality is the fold count, which the coefficient is almost blind to.
The cloth gains weight by losing size
Mass per unit area is the number a fabric is bought by, and it rises by eleven per cent when a cloth relaxes — with nothing added, nothing removed and no thread changed. The quantity is a ratio, and finishing moves its denominator.
Why a knit recovers and a woven does not
Four fabrics get longer without a single yarn stretching, and the four mechanisms are worth wildly different amounts. Three of them are recoverable and one is very nearly not, and which is which follows from where the extension came from.
A cloth cannot carry a push
The net model that runs this site's mechanics has no bending stiffness at all, so it buckles under any compression whatever, into wrinkles of any wavelength whatever. What picks the wavelength is the competition the net leaves out — and the answer is a quarter power, which is why a wrinkle is so hard to change.
How a tuft is held
A V-fastened tuft and a W-fastened tuft are both attached, and the integrity criterion returns the same verdict for both. One of them is specified for hotel corridors and the other sheds. What separates them is not a topological property at all — it is an angle, and it needs a coefficient somebody has to measure.
The ratchet that makes wool felt
A wool fibre is covered in scales pointing one way, so it slides more easily root-first than tip-first. Agitate it and the motion is symmetric while the result is not — every cycle nets a displacement in one direction, and no amount of further agitation undoes it.
Watered silk is a beat
Fold a ribbed cloth on itself and press it, and a figure appears at a scale neither ply has — fifty times the rib pitch, wandering across the piece. It is the difference of two wavevectors, it is enormous because the angle is tiny, and no two pieces match because no two are folded at the same angle.
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.
Corduroy is a cut float
An extra weft floats over some ends, a knife runs along the cloth, and each half of the float stands up. So the pile height is exactly half the float's length — which makes corduroy the one pile fabric whose surface is decided entirely by a quantity this site has been counting since its first essay.
Milling holds the cloth a second time
This site's integrity criterion returns exactly the same answer for a melton as for the loose twill it was woven as, and it is right both times. What has changed is that a second network now holds the fabric together, made of migrated fibre rather than of thread crossings — and it is the one that decides whether a cut edge frays.
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.
The nodes a drape test throws away
A drape test lays a circular specimen over a pedestal, photographs the shadow and reports one number. The specimen also falls into a definite number of folds, which is a buckling mode set by the fabric's own bending length — and the standard method observes it, does not record it, and reports the number it is least sensitive to.
The reed leaves its own mark
A reed does not space a warp evenly. It groups it, several ends to a dent, and the grouping beats against the weave repeat — so a denting that shares a factor with the repeat treats every repeat identically and shows as a stripe, and one that does not is invisible.
A cloth extends by moving its crimp
Everybody says the extension available along the warp is the warp's own crimp. On six of eight ordinary cloths it is not — a close sheeting has 14.61 per cent of warp crimp and reaches 4.03 per cent, because the limit lives in the weft.
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.
What crimp interchange actually conserves
Pull a cloth lengthways and it narrows, because the crimp moves from one system to the other. Inextensibility says that much and no more — it is one equation short of an answer, and the second equation everybody uses is an assumption with a name.
Shrink-resist is one number
Machine-washable wool is sold as a coating that glues the scales down. What the treatment has to achieve is narrower and more exact — make the fibre slide equally well in both directions, and the ratchet has nothing left to rectify, whatever the friction happens to be.
Terry needs two beams
A towel's pile is not woven longer. It is fed longer — from a second warp beam let off several times faster than the first — so the loop height follows from a ratio and a pick spacing, and the float length that decides a corduroy does not appear in it anywhere.
Calendering is the cloth arriving at the other model
This site has carried two thread sections side by side since its foundation — Peirce's circle and Kemp's racetrack — and has been careful to say which produced any number. They are not two opinions about one yarn. They are one yarn on either side of a finishing machine.
Every crossing is a force
A thread arrives at a crossing at an angle and leaves at its negative, so the two pulls have transverse parts that add. The force pressing one thread onto another is twice the tension times the sine of the weave angle — and for an ordinary sheeting that is more than the tension in the thread itself.
Pulled both ways, only one can give
A cloth at constant thread length has one degree of freedom, so its reachable states are a curve rather than a region. Equal extension in both directions meets that curve at exactly one point — the state the cloth is already in — so the amount available is nought.
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.
The float in a knit
Five rungs of this anchor have taken the float to be a length of thread on the surface with nothing holding it down. A knit has one too, and it behaves the same way in the light and the opposite way in the hand — because a woven float lengthens its thread and a knitted one shortens its fabric.
Twist is one angle
Every model of cloth treats a yarn as a cylinder with a diameter. It is a bundle of loose fibres, and what makes it behave like a cylinder is twist — which is a helix, so the whole subject is one angle, and the trade's twist factor turns out to be the only combination of count and turns that decides anything.
Velvet is cut apart
Two ground cloths are woven face to face with a pile warp shuttling between them, and while it does the whole thing is one cloth — the criterion says so, and the pile is the only reason it is true. Then a knife runs down the middle and the same criterion says two. The manufacture is the deliberate destruction of cloth integrity.
A cloth's Poisson ratio is not a material's
The ratio of a cloth's contraction to its extension has a name everywhere else in mechanics, and it breaks every rule the name comes with — above one half on all eight cloths measured, doubling across a four per cent span, and not reciprocal between the two directions.
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.
The shed is an extension
Every model of a finished cloth treats a thread as inextensible, and every one of them is about a fabric that has left the loom. On the loom the warp is stretched thousands of times a minute by the shed itself, and the amount is exact trigonometry with nothing fitted in it: the square of the shed's tangent, times the shaft's own distance from the fell, over twice what is left behind it.
What holds a pick in
A plain weave grips its weft by the crimp, and the crimp's wrap angle falls towards nothing as the cloth opens out. A leno crossing is half a turn whatever the sett. So the comparison has an exact answer that does not depend on the friction coefficient at all — and no plain weave can ever reach a leno's grip.
A thread is gripped where it turns
The usual arithmetic for fraying, seam slippage and tuft anchorage counts every crossing a thread makes as a grip and adds them up. A thread lying flat on the surface of a satin presses on nothing at all, and a thread that is gripped is gripped by a friction that compounds along its length rather than adding. Both corrections were recorded as missing and both are here.
A fashioned edge has a quantised angle
A knitted panel is shaped by transferring loops, so its edge steps by whole wales at whole courses and its angle is the arctangent of a fraction. The available angles turn out to be the same for every plain knit there has ever been — in any yarn, at any gauge, at any loop length — because the constant they scale by cancels the loop out. There are eighteen of them, and 16.67° between the last two.
Raising spends the cloth's strength
Fibre standing up on the surface is fibre no longer in the load path. A nap is warmth bought with tensile strength, and the exchange rate runs along the same axis as everything else the float decides — which means a fabric cannot be optimised for both ends of it.
The back shaft works hardest
How hard the loom is on a warp end is the product of two numbers from different worlds — how often its column changes sides, which is a property of a binary matrix with no millimetre in it, and the strain of the shaft it happens to be on, which is a property of a machine with no weave in it. Neither knows about the other, and the threading that joins them is a decision nobody makes on structural grounds.
The criterion cannot see friction
This site's central check is exact, decidable in linear time, and structurally incapable of distinguishing a carpet from a fabric that sheds. That is not a defect to be repaired — a separation exists or it does not, and there is no margin in it — and the fancy weaves are precisely the constructions that live in the gap.
The sett decides how much, not how high
Every essay on wicking so far has found the sett deciding something. This one finds it deciding nothing at all: a cloth's maximum rise is 6.37 m at eight threads per centimetre and 6.37 m at thirty-four, because the sett cannot reach inside a yarn.
Two coefficients, not one
Every friction on this site is a single number, and the account of why a cloth relaxes better when it is agitated depends entirely on there being two. Separating static from kinetic changes what a resting state is: a cloth at rest is held by one coefficient and a cloth being shaken by the other, and the band it can be left in narrows — by less than the ratio, because a cloth's restoring force is not linear in its extension.
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 figure is harder on its warp
Every basic weave flexes all its ends exactly as often as each other — plain, twill, satin and sateen alike, and it is a one-line theorem. Figure one of them on another and that evenness goes, or does not, depending on where the ground weave was started relative to the figure. The same invisible offset that decides whether a fine figure holds together decides, at a coarse one, how unevenly the loom works the warp.
The reed is not the sett
A reed holds the warp at a pitch, and the cloth that leaves it is narrower — by exactly the weft's crimp, with nothing fitted and nothing approximated. On a close balanced sheeting that is 12.75 per cent, on an open scrim 1.87, and a weaver who allowed one figure for both would be wrong by a factor of nearly seven.
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.
Where the heddles go
A draft says how many shafts it needs and says nothing about how the ends divide between them. On a satin stripe over a plain ground the two ground shafts carry twenty times what the stripe shafts do — and the only cure is to spend shafts, which turns the threading into an allocation problem with an exact answer.
A knit is soft because it bends
Ask the same energy question of a woven cloth and a knitted one and the answers are not different by a factor — they are different in kind. A woven cloth's bending energy changes the moment it is extended. A knitted loop's does not change at all, exactly, over the whole of its extension, because its arcs are held to a radius by contact rather than by the fabric's dimensions.
A yarn's stiffness is a bracket, not a number
Two calculations are available for how stiff a thread is in bending, and both are exact. One treats the fibres as free to slide and gives the sum of their stiffnesses; the other treats them as locked and gives a solid rod. They differ by the fibre count, which for an ordinary cotton yarn is a factor of five hundred — and no measurement of the fibre narrows it by anything at all.
The setts a loom can reach
Transposing a draft gives a perfectly good draft, and every count this site takes off a matrix either is symmetric under exchanging warp and weft or has a mirror twin. The loom is not symmetric at all: over the range ordinary cloth is woven in, it can choose a pick density 99 times more finely than a warp sett — and the warp sett cannot be changed once the warp is drawn in, at any granularity whatever.
A cloth gives back less than it took
Everything this collection computes about a deforming fabric is reversible, and no fabric is. The repair is not a new material property: a woven cloth has two routes to a strain, one of them costs its threads nothing and comes back in full, and where the first route runs out is a number about the sett with no fibre in it at all.
A hole with nothing crossing
A real leno holds its holes open by crossing one thread over another, which is a topological arrangement and cannot come undone. A mock leno makes the same holes by grouping threads that nothing separates, and everything about it is friction.