The thread: Exactly this many
Weaves as plane patterns
A draft is a periodic pattern with two states, so its symmetry is two-coloured. Some operations leave warp-up as warp-up and others exchange the two, and only a balanced weave has any of the second kind.
A fabric to fill and a fabric to load
A reinforcement has to hold as much fibre as possible and still let a resin through it, and the two demands are the same decision pulling opposite ways. Both bounds are computable, the interval between them narrows as the square of the part, and past a certain size it is empty — which is the most useful thing the arithmetic says.
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 harness does not grow
Nearly every account of a loom says the shaft count limits the repeat. It limits the repeat of a straight draw, and of nothing else — a reversed twill on ninety-six ends weaves on the same four shafts as the twill it was made from, and the ratio grows without bound.
What a dobby stores
A pattern chain does not store picks. It stores lifts — the distinct sets of shafts a draft ever raises — and for most drafts worth weaving that number is very much smaller than the number of picks, which is the second half of the reason a wide repeat is affordable.
There is no satin on six ends
Weavers have known it as a rule for centuries. It is a theorem with a one-line proof about common factors, and it rules out four ends as well.
A cloth cannot shrink past its own crimp
However hard a loom held the warp, there is a limit to what relaxation can take back, and it is not a fitted constant or a measured one. It is the crimp itself, read as c over one plus c, and it is the only result in this field with nothing empirical in it at all.
A jacquard is every end its own shaft
The machine is usually described as the one that weaves anything. What it actually does is abolish one of the loom's two budgets and make the other proportional to the width of the repeat — which turns a constraint on the design's kind into a constraint on its size, and those are very different things to be short of.
The seventeen groups a draft can have
Twelve of them, in fact. The five missing ones all need a three-fold rotation, and no grid of warp and weft admits one at any size — which makes it a theorem rather than an artefact of the census.
The third index is not a repeat
The fancy weaves left three-dimensional weaving open as a possible fifth escape from the binary matrix. It is not one. The criterion that decides whether a plain weave is one cloth decides a five-layer preform unchanged — and what a third dimension actually takes away is periodicity, because a thickness has a top and a bottom and a repeat does not.
The yarn count systems, and why there are several
Half the ways of saying how fine a yarn is get bigger as it gets finer and half get smaller. That is not carelessness — and one of the constants buried in the oldest rule of thumb turns out to be a measurement nobody wrote down.
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.
Colour and weave as a two-colour problem
Where the two threads crossing are the same colour, the intersection looks identical whichever is on top. Half of them are, so 22,874 drafts collapse onto 256 surfaces — eighty-nine weaves apiece, and no way to tell them apart.
Peirce against the racetrack, measured
Two models of a yarn's cross-section, given the same yarn and the same closure condition, agree on how densely the cloth can be set and disagree by nearly half on how thick it is. Which quantity is being asked about decides whether the choice of model matters at all.
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.
The hole between four threads
A woven cloth's holes are all the same size. That is not an approximation — it is what a repeat means — and it is the whole reason a woven filter is specified by one number while a nonwoven needs a curve. The number is the spacing less the diameter, which this site has been computing since its first questions about setting.
A damask is its own complement
The pattern is carried by direction alone. Figure and ground are the same satin, one warp-face and one weft-face, with the same longest float, the same shaft count and the same threading — so the cloth's most famous effect costs it no structural difference whatever between the two areas.
A filter cloth has two jobs
Hold the soil back and pass the water. The first wants a close sett and the second wants an open one, so a filter cloth is not a fabric but an interval — one that is sometimes a single sett wide, and for a fine enough soil is empty. The empty case is the useful one, because it says the answer is not a woven cloth at all.
Every cloth there is, at four by four
Sixty-five thousand matrices, twenty-two thousand weaves, and about a dozen with names. The complete census of the smallest interesting repeat is a map of a whole small world, and almost none of it has ever been woven.
How many cloths are there
Twenty-two thousand eight hundred and seventy-four four-by-four drafts. Four hundred and twenty-six four-by-four cloths. And the site's own separation rate — the fraction of drafts that look like fabric and are not — more than doubles when fabrics are counted instead of notations, which is the opposite of what was expected.
What a second guide bar is for
One warp-knit bar leaves the wales in as many independent fabrics as its shog shares factors with the width. Two bars leave the greatest common divisor of both — so a pair of shogs that each fail alone can succeed together, and a pair that share a factor cannot.
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.
What a repeat repeats
Point paper is ruled in squares, and the rectangle a draft is written on is a decision by whoever drew it. The unit a cloth actually has is smaller — two intersections for a plain weave, four for a 2/2 twill — and it is not a rectangle at all.
How many layers a draft can have
Of the 22,874 four-by-four drafts this site sweeps, 22,730 are one cloth and 144 are two. None is three, and none can be — a repeat of n ends holds at most n halved cloths, because every cloth needs two ends and two picks of its own before it interlaces at all.
Knit, tuck and miss
A weave is a matrix over two symbols and a weft knit is a matrix over three. The site's central question survives the translation intact: a weave falls apart when its above-and-below relation is disconnected, and a knit falls apart when a needle never knits.
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 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 stripe is a partition of the warp
A striped cloth is not a weave with decoration on it — it is one matrix in which different bands of ends obey different rules. The shaft count is a set union rather than a sum, and of forty-five pairs of standard weaves only three share a single column.
Four ways to write a weave down
A weave's name in the trade is a pair of numbers — 2/2, 3/1, five-end satin — and the notation is so universal that it is easy to forget it is a notation. It has an image and the image is computable: of the 426 cloths at four by four, five have a name of that kind, and there are four names for the five.
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.
What a tuck costs
A knitted loop is about four wale spacings of yarn and a float across one needle is exactly one, so replacing a knit with a miss removes three quarters of a loop. That much is a count. What it does to the fabric's size is not, and this essay is careful about which is which.
A check is two stripes and a tartan is one
A tartan is quoted as one sett of thread counts because the warp and the weft carry the same order. That is said to make it symmetric about its diagonal, and the arithmetic says it cannot be — the ceiling is three quarters, and a 2/2 twill reaches one half.
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.
A figure is not a stripe
Two sound weaves side by side always make sound cloth — that is a theorem, and it was proved here. Put one of them inside a *region* instead of a band and it stops being true, and whether it is true or not turns out to depend on a number that appears nowhere in either draft: where the two weaves start relative to each other.
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.
A second bed changes what a float is
Every float so far has been on a surface, because every knit so far has had one needle bed. Put a bed behind it and the yarn runs in the gap between them — and over the whole enumeration of two-bed structures, 1,248 floats of 1,272 lie inside the cloth, on no surface at all.
Designing to a float limit
Every jacquard designer works to a rule of the form nothing longer than four. It reads as a constraint on a drawing. It is really a statement about how much of the catalogue exists, and the catalogue shrinks as the repeat grows.
Mercerising is a packing factor
Cotton held in caustic soda swells, and everything the treatment is famous for follows from one number in this site's diameter calculation. The lustre it is actually sold for does not, and saying which consequences are computed and which are not is the whole of the discipline here.
Does a double jersey hang together
Two beds knitting with nothing passing between them are two fabrics that happen to have been made at once. Of 6,561 two-bed arrays, 1,135 are fabrics and 50 of those are two fabrics — and 28 of the 50 split across the beds rather than along them, so neither half is a layer.
Only a float can be raised
A raising machine drags wire teeth across a cloth and pulls fibre ends up into a nap. The teeth need something to catch, and what they catch is a float — so which fabrics can be napped at all is a question about the matrix, decidable exactly, and the answer over the whole four-by-four census is two.
What a fabric weighs
Every fabric is sold by its weight in grams per square metre, and the number is a sum of four products in which no term appears alone. One equation, four unknowns: a hundred and fifty grams describes an open coarse cloth and a close fine one, and the cover factors differ by a factor of nearly three.
What a figure costs the loom
A block design's shaft count does not depend on how wide the figure is, or how deep, or how many blocks it has. It depends on how many *different* block-columns it has, and each new one costs exactly one repeat of the ground weave — 8 shafts, then 16, then 24, in a straight line with no slope to fit.
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.
Which satins are worth weaving
Manuals give the moves a satin admits as a list, as though the survivors were interchangeable. They are not. Measure how far apart the interlacings sit and the traditional counter turns out to be the best move at the orders a weaver mostly uses — and to fail first at thirteen, where the square root names four and five scatters further.
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.
A woven outline is a staircase
A jacquard's resolution is quoted as its hook count, and on a 1,200-hook machine 140 cm wide that is a step of 1.17 mm. The cloth cannot use it. A figure's smallest feature is one repeat of the ground weave, which on an eight-end satin is 3.33 mm — so the machine resolves nearly three times finer than the fabric can hold, and a finer machine buys nothing at all.
How many shafts a draft needs
Every quantity counted so far is a property of the cloth. This one is a property of the loom — the number of distinct columns in the matrix — and it is very probably the strongest single predictor of which of the twenty-two thousand four-by-four drafts anybody ever wove.
How many twills a repeat admits
Sixty-four ways of writing a twill on eight ends, and twenty-one twills. The difference is two operations that leave the cloth unchanged, and a catalogue that does not quotient by them is counting notations rather than fabrics.
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.
The stitch that weakens the seam
More stitches per centimetre put more sewing thread across a seam and more holes through the cloth beside it, so seam strength rises, crosses and falls. Whether the fabric line falls at all is decided by the clear gap between two threads against the width of the needle — the same arithmetic a filter cloth is specified by, doing a different job.
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.
A knit's dimensions come from its loop
A relaxed plain knit's courses, wales and stitch density depend on the loop length and on nothing else — not the yarn count, not the fibre, not the machine gauge. The constants are measured rather than derived, and the interesting thing about the published set is that it does not quite satisfy its own arithmetic.
A rectangular block is not half a rule
The block rule was proved for square blocks and the rectangular case was recorded as not run, on the grounds that a block a repeat wide and half a repeat deep satisfies only half the condition. Running it turns up two things: half the condition rules out the failure nobody can see, and a block turned through a right angle is a different design — which a square census cannot notice, because a square block is its own transpose.
A tube can only be shaped by its loop
On a circular machine the needle count is the cylinder, so a seamless tube's circumference is its wale count times its wale spacing — and the wale spacing is the loop length over one constant. The loop is the only free quantity, the yarn bounds it at both ends, and what is left is a taper of 18.8 per cent bought at the price of a fabric half again as dense.
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 crepe cannot be structureless
A crepe weave is designed to have no line in it anywhere. The correlations of a draft with itself sum to a number fixed by the repeat alone, so structure can be spread and never removed — and on eight ends the floor turns out to be half the repeat, set by a fact about binary words with nothing textile in it.
A tear stops where the grip is
This collection asked whether a loose weave tears better and had to answer that the geometry could not say — it supplies a grip count and a slack, and neither is a force. The fancy weaves brought a friction. With it the question has an answer — a cloth's threads slide up to a computable sett and break above it — and a ripstop grid has a bound with no free parameter in it.
A tube and two cloths are the same draft
Two separate fabrics, a cloth twice the width of the loom and a seamless tube are the same draft to the last square. The check this site is built on reports two layers for all three and is right every time — because the thing that separates them is four free selvedges, or two, or none, and a repeat has no selvedges in it.
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.