The thread: Structure before fibre
A fabric is a structure, not a material
Cotton is a material. Cloth is an arrangement, and almost everything a fabric does follows from how the threads are put together rather than from what they are made of.
WeavesPlain, twill and satin
Three rules, and everything else in weaving is a variation on them. What separates the three is not appearance but one trade — how often a thread changes face against how far it runs when it does not.
Setting and geometryThread count is not quality
It counts threads. It says nothing about how much of the cloth they cover, it can be inflated by counting plies, and it ranks fabrics in nearly the wrong order. The quantity it is mistaken for is cover factor, and that one is computable.
Knits and other structuresThe 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.
WeavesThe float decides
How far a thread runs on the face before it goes under is one number, and it sits behind lustre, drape, snagging, abrasion, tear strength and how densely the cloth can be set. Almost nothing else in the subject has that reach.
Knits and other structuresWhy 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.
Setting and geometryHow close can threads be set
There is a maximum. Push more threads into a cloth than the geometry allows and they simply will not go, and the limit depends on the weave as much as on the yarn.
Knits and other structuresRavel, fray and run
Cut a woven cloth and one thread comes loose. Break one loop in a knit and every loop above it follows. The two structures fail in opposite ways, and the reason is topology rather than strength.
WeavesInterlacings and firmness
Every time a thread changes face it has to bend, and a bend takes room. That one sentence decides how densely a cloth can be set, how firm it feels, and why the two run in opposite directions.