The thread: A mechanism, not a material — page 2
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.
The crimp ratio is not a measurement
Peirce's geometry is two thread systems, four unknowns and three equations. It cannot say how the crimp divides between warp and weft, so every cloth solved so far has been drawn at a ratio somebody chose. Give the threads a stiffness and the missing equation arrives — and for six of the eight cloths in the table it arrives with no material constant in it at all.
What stops a knit extending
A knitted loop's bending energy does not change as the fabric extends — exactly, over the whole range its geometry admits. Something resists, and it is not stiffness. It is friction at the interlocks, which is dissipative rather than elastic, and that single fact accounts for why a knit does not spring back, why a softener changes its dimensions and why the constants its size is quoted with contain no yarn property at all.
What the shed costs, in newtons
The shed's strain has been computed here and could not be priced: a strain is a length over a length and says nothing about how hard a thread is being pulled. A modulus turns it into a tension — and the back shaft of a twenty-four-shaft harness turns out to hold its ends at half their breaking load, all day, from the geometry alone.
A loop has no closure condition
A woven cloth can run out of room: its two systems must supply its whole thickness between them, and past a certain swelling they cannot. A knit has no such equation, so no critical swelling and no pressure. The obvious explanation — that a knit is open and has somewhere to put the swelling — is false, and the arithmetic refuses it.
Coated is a state
Almost every mechanism in a woven cloth assumes threads that can move relative to one another — the bias is a mechanism because the crossings rotate, a tear runs because threads gather, a cloth takes a hole without minding because the neighbours pick the load up. A film bonds the crossings. Two of those results reverse outright, the rest change in kind, and a fabric's quoted numbers almost never say which state they belong to.
The blow that sets the pick
The take-up gear decides how far the cloth moves between picks and says nothing about the blow that puts each pick where it goes. That blow is a force, and a virtual-work argument gives it in one line — with the length of the beat-up zone cancelling out of the answer exactly, which is the part worth having.
The harness has a depth
Why does a dobby carry sixteen or twenty-four shafts rather than two hundred? The usual answers are about the mechanism — how many jacks a box can drive, how many hooks a dobby has — and they are real limits that are not the binding one. A stated tolerance on warp strain is a stated distance from the fell, and a stated distance is a whole number of shafts. One per cent buys thirteen.
The locus gets a force
This site has drawn the set of states a cloth can reach without stretching any yarn, and has never been able to say which of them it is in or what it would cost to move. Both questions are one derivative of a bending energy — and the answer explains the flat start every fabric's load–extension curve has, which is not slack yarn but a symmetry.
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 cloth relaxes until its threads stop pushing
The finishing field treats the relaxed state as a place a cloth arrives at. With an energy along its own locus and a friction at its crossings it is not a place but a band — and which point of the band a piece of cloth stops at depends on which side it came from, which is why washing it twice gives two answers.
A flattened thread is a record of a force
A yarn in cloth is not round, and this site has modelled the flattening for as long as this collection has run with the amount of it left as a number somebody chose. Give the section a stiffness and ask what the cloth prefers, and the answer is a circle — at every stiffness, for every balanced cloth in the table. Flattening does not happen by itself; it happens because something pressed.
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 motif is drawn at the wrong shape on purpose
Point paper has one cell per end and per pick, so a design's proportions on the cloth are the ratio of the two setts. Both setts move in the finishing and they move in opposite directions, so a circle drawn as a circle comes back out of round — by three per cent on a balanced cloth and by sixteen on a warp-dense one.
A pick density is a force budget
The take-up ladder counted what a change-wheel take-up can select: 4,825 distinct pick densities between eight and forty threads per centimetre, against forty-nine warp setts a reed catalogue offers over the same range. That count assumed every setting is available. A beat-up force says otherwise, and cuts the top off the range without touching the fineness of the choice.
What holds a tuft in, in newtons
The pile ladder computed a tuft's anchorage as a capstan ratio and said, correctly, that a ratio was all it could offer. A ratio multiplies a tension and there was no tension anywhere on this site. There is one now — and the answer, put beside what a carpet is actually specified at, falls short by a factor of three.
A cloth is a population, not a thread
Every number in this collection was computed from a diameter, and no yarn has one. Putting the distribution back changes some answers by nothing at all, some by a few per cent, and some by a factor — and which of the three happens is decided by one derivative.
A knit relaxes for as long as it is allowed to
Munden's three states are usually given as three sets of constants. Read as a path they are two steps, they compose exactly, and the second is not a smaller version of the first — the fabric shrinks twice as much along its courses as across its wales on the first step and rather less than half as much on the second.
Peirce and Kemp are one cloth at two moments
This site has run two thread sections side by side since the setting field was built — a circle and a flattened racetrack — and said honestly that they disagree and that the disagreement is the point. They are not rival descriptions of the same fabric. They are descriptions of the same fabric before and after something pressed it, and the difference between them is a pressure that can now be named.
The criterion gets a force
This site's integrity criterion decides exactly whether a draft describes one cloth, and has one standing limitation: it says a tuft bound under one pick and a tuft bound under three are both attached, and it is right, and one of those is a carpet while the other sheds. What separates them needs a normal force in a fabric that is not under tension — the number the rung that computed it recorded as unavailable, and the one a thickness gauge now supplies.
The stiffness with no lower bound
A yarn's bending rigidity lies between two derivable ends and the ratio is the fibre count — wide, but closed. Its resistance to being squashed out of round has an upper bound of the same kind and a lower bound of exactly nothing, because fibres free to slide resist a change of shape with nothing at all. That is why nobody could ever compute the aspect ratio of a flattened thread.
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.
Why agitation helps a cloth relax
Every standard relaxation procedure agitates: tumble it, wash it, steam it, work it. The explanation given is that agitation lets the fabric find its own dimensions, which is true and is not a mechanism. The mechanism is that a sliding contact resists less than a stuck one — and putting a number on it shows the effect is real, is smaller than the obvious arithmetic suggests, and does not account for what a relaxation procedure achieves.
A calender spends the compression for good
Calendering was described here as moving a cloth from one thread-section model to another, which was right and had no number in it because the amount of the move was a free parameter. It is a pressure now — and the same nip setting turns out to give two cloths quite different treatments, because the force at a crossing is the pressure times the area a crossing owns.
A jersey leans because its yarn still turns
A single-jersey T-shirt comes back from the wash with its side seam spiralling round the body, and a rib does not. The difference is not the yarn: it is a count. Loops on opposite beds are mirror images, so their torques oppose, and a fabric that knits equally on both nets to zero whatever the yarn is doing.
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.
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.
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.
The relaxed cloth's contact force
How hard two threads press on each other in a cloth that is not being pulled is the number this site's own integrity criterion has needed since its first essays, and the route to it was an elastica nobody had. A thickness gauge supplies it instead — because a cloth's thickness is a record of how flat its threads are, and how flat they are is a record of how hard they are pressed.
A crushed pile is not held down by its fibres
A carpet flattened under a foot has bent its tufts through a right angle, which sounds severe and is not: the fibres in a five-millimetre pile are strained under two tenths of a per cent, an order of magnitude below the smallest strain anybody has measured a recovery at. What holds a pile down is the tufts leaning on one another.
The half of the beat-up that is all zone
The elastic half of the beat-up force is exact and the length of the beat-up zone cancels out of it, which is this site's own result and disagrees with every practical account of weaving. The frictional half is nothing but zone — and requiring the total to match the force a loom is actually built to apply puts the number of picks still sliding at about one.
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 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 leno's hole cannot drift
A filter cloth is rated by its largest hole, and the largest hole grows one micrometre for every micrometre an end moves sideways. What holds an end in place in an ordinary weave is friction at its crossings, and that friction falls smoothly to nothing as a cloth opens — with no threshold to warn anybody. A leno's crossing does not: its ends are wrapped through half a turn by construction, so the grip has no sett in it, and at an open cloth it holds eighteen times what a plain weave manages.
A slub finds the width of the cloth
A thick place recurring along a weft yarn does not make a bar. It makes diagonals — and when the cloth's width happens to be a whole number of fault periods, it makes stripes down the piece instead, from a fault that is entirely in the weft.
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.
Why felting needs water
Wool felts in a wash and not in a drawer, and the usual explanation is that water lubricates the scales. It does the opposite of that. Water lowers one of wool's two friction coefficients and raises the other, so it widens the gap the ratchet rectifies — and what follows is a saturating function of the ratio, not of either coefficient.
A cloth has an outside
Every quantity in this collection is a property of the inside of a fabric — a crimp, a cover, a hole, a fibre count. None of them says where the cloth stops. The outside is a height field the draft computes, its crowns stand at two different levels, and which of the two is higher decides what the cloth touches the world with.
A course is one thread and a warp is many
A woven fabric draws its warp from two thousand packages side by side, so a yarn's drift averages out across the width. A weft knit takes whole courses from one package, so the same drift becomes a band — and the standard remedy for that turns an invisible error into a visible one.
A cloth has one budget for two directions
A woven cloth looks as though it carries two independent reserves of free extension, one along the warp and one across the weft. It carries one. There is a single curve of states and a single position on it, so every hundredth spent one way is refunded the other — which means a pre-tensioned cloth has not used its recovery up, it has moved it.
A cloth shrinks most the first time
A laundering test reports five numbers and they fall away like a geometric series. Nothing in a wash is slow — a cloth is agitated tens of thousands of times in half an hour — so a second wash that shrinks it again is direct evidence that its frictional barriers are spread, and the ratio between successive washes measures how far.
A seersucker is made at the loom
Every other relief weave in this collection gets its shape after the loom, from a difference of crimp between two regions of a few per cent. A seersucker's surplus is thirty per cent and is put in as the cloth is woven — an order of magnitude more, which the square root turns into a factor of four in depth and no more than that.
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.
Three mistakes and the shape each one leaves
A loom holds a design in three separate objects, and one error in each of them is the same size of error. What they cost differs by a factor of seventeen hundred — and the largest of the three is the one nobody can see happening, because every thread is exactly where it should be.
Why a knit shows a thick place
A woven cloth has hundreds of separate warp ends and averages a yarn's faults among them. A knit has one thread and a machine that repeats — so a difference between two packages becomes a stripe, and the machine chooses its period.
The curve that says what a cloth touches with
Take a cloth's surface and ask what fraction of the plan lies within a given depth of its highest point. The answer is one curve, it answers every question of the form what does this touch, and its behaviour at the top is decided by a single bit of the draft — whether the longest float is one crossing or more than one.
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 crease is a fold the crimp cannot supply
A fold needs its outer face longer than its inner, and a woven cloth's way of supplying a length is to move crimp. That runs out at a radius of millimetres, and a pressed crease is tenths of one — so the fold is handed to the fibres. How hard it strains them turns on a question that two fields of these essays had left unsettled, and a crease settles it by refusing.
Recovery is measured and nothing predicts it
A fibre's stiffness is a bracket whose ends can be computed. What fraction of a strain it gives back is not: it has to be looked up, the tables are thin, they stop exactly where a fabric needs them, and the most attractive explanation for the ordering they show turns out to have no signal in it at all.
The construction a loom must be set to
A specification quotes ends and picks per centimetre in the finished cloth, and a loom is set to neither of them. The cloth relaxes to the least-energy state of its own locus, which is a state at a different sett — and because the locus is one curve, the two numbers a specification quotes are not two free numbers.
A tuft is set so it cannot untwist
A cut pile tuft has a free end, and at a free end the pressure holding the twist is zero. So the twist runs out over a computable length, the tuft opens, and a carpet loses its appearance long before it loses any material.
A figure shows by its shine, not its step
A damask is one cloth in one colour and its pattern is plainly visible. This collection attributed that to the step in its surface — fifty micrometres of relief, computed from the interlacing rates. The step is real and returns almost no light. What makes the figure visible is that its crowns run at right angles to the ground's, so the two trade places when the cloth is turned.
A jersey has two surfaces
The face of a plain knit shows the legs of its loops, which run along the wale; the back shows the heads and feet, which run across it. So the two faces carry their crowns at right angles — the same situation as a damask's figure and its ground, in a fabric with no warp, no weft and no float.
A tensioned cloth loses its load
Clamp a fabric at a fixed length and its tension falls overnight. Nothing crept and nothing flowed: the crossings rearranged locally until the load had dropped to what friction alone can hold, and that level is the same number whatever the cloth was pulled to — so the harder it was tensioned, the smaller the share it keeps.
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.
How much of a cloth is touching
Press a fabric against a flat plate with the weight of a hand and ask what fraction of it is actually in contact. The bearing curve answers, and the answer is about four per cent — of which the great majority is not the cloth's surface at all, but the hairs standing off it, which nothing in this arithmetic can see.