The thread: Structure before fibre — page 4
A double cloth is only softer if its yarn is set
A double cloth is sold as weight without stiffness: two light cloths in place of one heavy one. Divide the same yarn into two layers and the cloth is √2 or twice as thick, but at the free end of a yarn's stiffness bracket — where an unset yarn sits — its bending rigidity does not move at all, because it is the number of fibres across the width times the stiffness of one. Only a set yarn makes the double cloth the softer, and stitching the layers together pushes it the other way.
A figured sheer is a negative from one side
A net curtain with a pattern in it carries two patterns, one for each side, and by day they are opposites. A more open figure in a white voile is a dark figure a quarter below its ground from the street and a light one five per cent above it from the room, and after dark the two views trade places exactly. The figure vanishes from the street at one light ratio and from the room at another. And a figure can be made that the room cannot see at all while the street sees it nearly black — along one line of openness and thread tone, and never from both sides at once.
How dense a knitted fabric is
A fabric's areal weight is what the trade specifies and it says nothing about bulk. Divide it by a thickness and the answer is a density — 0.40 grams a cubic centimetre for a jersey, a quarter of the fibre it is made of — and that quarter, the share of the volume that is not air, is the number every other property follows.
A rib's relaxation is not its bending either
A jersey does not settle where its bending energy is least, and this collection has said so for several rungs. A rib does not either, and the model now says how far from least it would have to go: sixteen yarn diameters of bed gap before the yarn runs out, against the two or three a machine is set to.
A group is one thread for cover and two for bending
The rung below leaves a limitation standing: two ends with nothing between them lie touching, and whether they behave as one thread of twice the diameter was said to depend on twist, hairiness and finish. Three of the four measures have exact answers with no friction in them and no two agree. A pair covers exactly what a double-diameter thread covers, with half its yarn, and bends at between an eighth and five eighths of its rigidity — and at equal yarn it covers forty per cent more and bends half as stiffly.
What a loop model still cannot say
A planar rod with a natural curvature and point contacts gets a knit's forces, its modulus and its extension. It does not get torsion, it does not get the third dimension the interlacing actually needs, and it does not stop adjacent courses passing through one another — which is why its extension ceiling sits three times beyond any jersey.
A knit is warm because of where its yarn is not
Warmth is a thickness of still air, and until a knitted fabric had a thickness there was nothing to compute. It has one now, and the answer is that a rib's warmth is a machine setting: opening the beds from two diameters to five nearly trebles the fabric's resistance without changing a gram of yarn.
Why a slack yarn snarls
Let go of a twisted thread and it wraps on itself. That is not the yarn being badly behaved: it is a buckling, it has a criterion, and the criterion turns a nuisance into an instrument for measuring the one constant this collection cannot pin down.
A yarn that has been set has no torque
Every torque on the torsion ladder assumes a yarn is elastic in twist for ever. It is not: a steamed yarn's residual torque is gone, its twist is unchanged, and the process that removes one without the other is the trade's whole answer to liveliness.
A cord's height has a ceiling and its width has none
A warp rib's cord is a wave, and its two dimensions come from two different places. The height is the weft's own crimp amplitude, and Peirce's closure condition caps it at the two yarn diameters together — 500 µm for a quarter-millimetre yarn, of which a 2/2 rib reaches 304 and a 6/6 rib 391. The pitch is the doubling times the pick spacing and has no cap at all. So a bolder rib is taller and wider, and wider faster: the aspect falls from 0.41 to 0.22.
A bouclé is set by its loops and weighed by its count
A bouclé yarn has two diameters: the one its count implies, a third of a millimetre, and the one its loops occupy, over four millimetres. A cloth jams where its yarns touch, and a bouclé's yarns can touch at either — so its jamming sett is a bracket twelve and a half times wide, from 1.1 to 14 ends a centimetre. The weight follows the count wherever in that bracket the cloth is set, which puts the open end at a twelfth of the close end's weight with four per cent of its area covered by yarn.
The modulus a knit has instead of one
A fabric's stiffness in extension is usually its yarn's modulus with the geometry taken out. A knit's is not: dimensionally it can only be a bending rigidity over a length cubed, and the same yarn laid straight and parallel is thirty thousand times stiffer than the fabric made of it.
How much yarn has to hang
The tension a thread needs to stay straight, converted into the only unit anybody has an intuition for: the length of the yarn's own weight. One bound says two metres and the other says six hundred, and everybody who has handled thread already knows which.
The twist a fabric gives back
A T-shirt that hung straight in the shop has its side seam round the front after three washes. The torque was there all along, the setting had hidden it, and the water gave it back — which makes spirality a finishing failure rather than a knitting one.
A net in front gives the figure to the room
The commonest double curtain is a plain net outside a patterned one, and the plain net does not merely dim the pattern. It weakens the figure from the street by a factor of three and a half and strengthens it from the room by a quarter, so a pattern four and a half times stronger outside than in becomes one the room sees slightly better. A figure designed to be invisible from indoors reappears at nearly three per cent, and the day-and-night exchange a single curtain obeyed exactly stops holding at all.
A run cannot cross a bed
A dropped stitch unroves because its neighbour above can pull it out along a path that costs almost nothing. In a rib the neighbour above is on the other bed, and the path goes through the gap — so a run in a two-bed fabric has to pay for a climb before it can take a single loop.
The flattening nobody fitted
A yarn in cloth is not round, everybody knows it, and nothing has ever predicted how flat. This collection's own knitted geometry turns out to require a flattening of four fifths — from a solve that knew nothing about flattening, made no allowance for it, and would have been written the same way if the idea had never occurred to anybody.
A wet knit's yarn is flatter
A knitted fabric's own geometry demands a flattened yarn, and how flat depends on how much room the fabric leaves. A wet cotton yarn is a tenth thicker than a dry one at the same length, so a wet fabric leaves less room — and asks its yarn to be flatter by an amount the geometry gives.
What nothing separates comes out together
The doubled family's interlacing rate has a closed form — half the sum of the two groupings' reciprocals — so a seam's grip on its own threads is the exponential of a harmonic mean, and it saturates in each grouping separately. At a ten-millimetre allowance a 2/2 hopsack holds a thread at seventy-four times the applied tension and a 1/4 warp rib at two hundred and eighteen, on cloths whose firmness differs by an eighth.
A bouclé loop is an elastica, not a semicircle
A bouclé's loop was taken to be a semicircle, and the semicircle cannot be right: it meets the core at a right angle, and at eighty per cent overfeed it is wider than the gap it stands in. Solved as what it is — a length of thread leaving the core along the core at two binder points — the loop is taller than the semicircle below an overfeed of two thirds and shorter above it, overhangs at 119 per cent and closes its neck at 559. Nothing of the fibre is in its shape, and the bouclé's jamming bracket at eighty per cent is 11.7 wide rather than 12.6.
A flattening that follows the tightness factor
Eighteen solved fabrics — five loop lengths, three relaxation states, three counts — and the flattening each one's geometry demands falls on a single curve against one dimensionless group. Nothing about the fibre or the count survives except through that group, which is what turns an arithmetical result into a structural requirement.
A loop has a maximum force in it
A bouclé loop pressed by its neighbour is the same elastica the free one is, with one condition added — at its apex the tangent lies along the core again, so a pressed loop is two half-loops with their rise prescribed and needs no contact solve at all. Solved, the eighty-per-cent loop pushes back with nothing at its free height, twelve millinewtons at four fifths of it, and two and a half at a tenth. A curve with a maximum in it is a softening spring, and the promise this account made — a cloth's position read from its beat-up — cannot be kept, because the whole bracket sits at one pressure.
A loop is a plane curve in another plane
A knitted loop was solved as a flat curve because two curves in one plane cannot pass through one another and a loop must. Letting it out of the plane turns out to change nothing about its shape: the loop is still planar, and its plane is the fabric's turned through twelve degrees.
The folding rule is a surface angle
Fold at two thirds for two singles, six tenths for three, a half for four. Those are one over the square root of the fold count, they are what makes a fold's surface twist angle equal its singles', and all three of the trade's brackets contain the number exactly.
The diameter that does need a state
A fabric dimension quoted without its relaxation state is not a measurement. The rule was applied to the two plan dimensions and then to the thickness, and it was never applied to the one dimension that is not the fabric's at all — the yarn's.
A bouclé wears from the loops down
A cloth loses its strength before its mass, because a woven cloth's crowns are the very threads that carry the tension. A bouclé inverts it exactly. Its surface is its loops, its loops hang off a core that carries everything, and 61 per cent of its yarn is on no load path at all — so a rub takes three tenths of a millimetre of thread that does nothing before it reaches anything that does, and the cloth is ruined to look at while it is still as strong as it was woven.
What a balanced yarn is balanced about
A specification that says a yarn is balanced does not say which of two conditions it means, and the two have different numbers, different dependences and different consequences. One of them is what folding achieves and the other is what folding is said to achieve.
A knot halves a yarn and says why
The rule is quoted for every rope and every knot and derived nowhere. It comes out at forty-six per cent for a cotton — but only if the yarn's fibres bend individually. A yarn bending as a solid section has already spent five times its breaking strain before any load arrives, so it could not be knotted at all.
A wrinkle cannot settle what a crease settles
The first rung of this ladder found that a pressed crease decides a question this collection had been unable to settle for two fields — whether a bent yarn's fibres slide or bend as one body — and it decides it by refusing: the coherent branch would strain the fibres by eighty-four per cent and cotton breaks at six. A wrinkle is the same fold at twenty times the radius, and there both branches are survivable. So the bracket that a crease collapses stays fourteen times wide at every radius anybody actually creases a cloth at accidentally.
A cabled yarn is a fold of folds
The rule that sets a fold's twist is one over the square root of the number of components. Apply it twice and a cabled yarn's three twist levels are fixed by two integers — which is a prediction with no free constants, about a class of yarn the trade quotes no rule for at all.
Which yarns knot well
A knot's efficiency depends on three things and only one of them is the knot. The other two are the fibre's fineness and its breaking strain, and across this collection's own table those give efficiencies from six per cent to eighty-three at exactly the same bend.
A crease cannot cross a seam
The outer layer of a folded stack has further to go than the inner, by the fold's angle times the stack's own thickness. A four-layer seam of quarter-millimetre cloth taken through a half turn needs its outer layer to be 2.45 millimetres longer than its inner — and a stitch line every three millimetres has pinned them. So the fold opens out where it crosses the seam, which is what a trouser crease visibly does, and the arithmetic gives the radius it opens to.
A damask is the only figure that costs its beam nothing
Figure and ground consume warp at different rates, and the difference accumulates down the length of the figure. An eight-end satin figure on a plain ground puts its two regions fourteen per cent apart, which on a loom absorbing a millimetre of slack bounds the figure at eight and a half millimetres. A damask's two regions are the same satin used two ways, so complementation leaves both float lengths where they were — and their crimps are identical rather than close, to the last bit of a double.
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.
An even shading cannot keep its surface level
Sixty-four six-end shadings hold every middle tone to a float of two, and the question left over was whether any of them keeps a tone ramp's surface level the way a twill read in order does. None does, and all of them sink by exactly the same depth — 43.3 micrometres on a sheeting, a sixth of the cloth. The reason is a counting argument a recording engineer would recognise: a limit on how long a thread may float is a limit on run length, and a run-length limit forces a floor on how often the thread changes face. A level ramp needs every tone at the extremes' rate, which needs a float of half the repeat at the midtone and more beside it — exactly the floats the twill in order has.
How little asymmetry a curl needs
A model with a thickness can finally be asked why stockinette rolls. It answers that it does not — its curling moment is exactly zero, by a symmetry — and the useful part is what that costs to break: five per cent of a yarn diameter buys the whole of the curl anybody has ever seen.
What a high-twist yarn costs a cloth
Twist buys strength up to a point and then loses it, and everything else it does is a cost. A crepe twist is chosen knowing that, and the trade's twist limits are a balance among five quantities that this collection can now put beside one another.
A tube of one size presses the calf harder than the ankle
A band presses a limb with its tension over the limb's radius, so it is easy to conclude that a band grips hardest where the limb is thinnest. That is true of a band held at one tension, and no knitted tube is. A tube knitted to one size is stretched further wherever the leg is thicker, and its tension rises faster than the radius does: an elastic tube pressing an ankle at twenty millimetres of mercury presses the calf at thirty-nine, and a cotton jersey tube presses its calf three and a half times as hard as its ankle. A stocking graduated the other way has to pull hardest where it presses less.
A jersey has no float for a wire to catch
Only a float can be raised, and the four-by-four census answers which woven cloths qualify: two. Asked of a knit the same question needs this collection's knitted float rather than a draft's, and the answer is that a plain jersey has no float at all — not a short one, none — while the ribs and cardigans have none either and the interlocks and milanos have floats every one of which is interior. Of 1,135 two-bed structures a machine could make, twenty present a float a wire could hook, and not one of them presents it on both faces.
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.
What a knit gives up when it is pressed
The woven half of this collection has had a compression curve for several rungs — a thickness that falls under load, a bearing area that grows, a pressure at every point. The knitted half had a plan and no depth. It has a relaxed thickness and an initial slope now, and the two fabrics turn out to resist for different reasons.
What a sett is when the yarn is not round
A jamming condition says how close threads can be set, and it says it in terms of a diameter. A thread in a cloth does not have one diameter: it has a wide one and a narrow one, and which of them a jam is about depends on which way the threads are jamming.
An inflated beam wrinkles at a moment with no cloth in it
An air-filled tube can be used as a beam because the pressure pulls its cloth taut along its length, and a cloth that cannot carry a push can carry a bending moment for exactly as long as that pull outweighs it. The inside of the bend goes slack at πpr³/2 and the tube folds at πpr³ — seventy-nine and a hundred and fifty-seven newton metres for a tube a fifth of a metre across at half a bar — and there is no property of the cloth in either. The cloth decides how far the beam bends on the way, and how much pressure it can be pumped to.
A figured warp needs a beam for every share of its figure
Figure and ground take up warp at different rates, so a figured cloth on one beam is bounded in how long its figure may run, and a second beam is the obvious escape. It escapes only for ends that live wholly in one region. An end that crosses the figure for part of the repeat consumes warp at its own rate, and two ends can share a beam only if they spend the same share of the repeat in the figure and never drift a slack apart inside it. So a round figure twelve blocks across needs four beams, ninety-six blocks across needs twenty-nine, and any crimp difference at all — a third of a per cent will do — costs every one of them over a piece.
A thread has a second stiffness
Every mechanical number here came from one material constant: how hard a thread is to bend. A thread also resists being twisted, nothing here has ever used that, and the ratio between the two turns out to be the only stiffness number about a yarn that can be known at all.
What a flattened yarn does to its cover
A cover factor is a sett times a diameter, and it decides how much of a cloth is thread and how much is hole. A flattened yarn is a third wider than a round one of the same area, so a cloth of flattened yarn covers more at the same sett — and every opacity, permeability and shade computed from a round diameter is wrong in one direction.
A satin's row belongs to its sett
Point paper draws an end and a pick as equal squares, and every result about which satins have a row was taken there. A cloth is not square: it is set at so many ends and so many picks a centimetre, and in cloth the ties that made twelve satin orders row-free are ties between steps of different shape, which break at the first per cent of unequal sett. The reverse happens too. An eight-end satin, rowed on paper, has no row at exactly 1.291 ends per pick; an eleven-end at 1.265 and 1.528. And the only scatter that survives a range of setts is an irregular satin whose closest steps are mirror images — which nine ends has from the first per cent and ten only by 1.3.
The second binder buys half of everything
A bouclé's loops are held by their binder, and a snag drags thread from one loop to the next until the thread breaks. The essay before it left that reach at seven binder points on one binder and said a second would square the grip. It does — and because the grip is exponential in the wrap and the reach is a logarithm of it, the reach is exactly inverse in the binder count: 7.43 points, then 3.72, then 2.48. Half of everything any number of binders can buy is bought by the second one, which is how many the trade uses.
A calender works where nothing has been measured
This account has twice recorded that the missing piece is plasticity — what fraction of a flattening survives the nip. The piece is missing for a sharper reason than nobody having written it down. A calender's flattening is a shape strain, and at the lightest setting in this account's own series that is 11 per cent while cotton's elastic recovery is measured from 2 to 5. Six fibres of seven have no data at any setting the machine has, and wool reaches only the lightest. The law cannot be had from the measurements; what can be had is the bracket, and it is a factor of twenty-four.
Twist is not torsion
A curve has a torsion and a material has a twist, they share a word, and only one of them is what a torsional rigidity resists. Getting them the wrong way round would have made this collection conclude that a knitted loop carries no twist, on the strength of a theorem that says nothing of the kind.
The count that decides how flat
A knitted fabric's demanded flattening is a function of its tightness factor, and a tightness factor is the square root of a count over a loop length. So a coarser yarn at the same loop is flatter — which is a prediction about a spinner's choice that nobody has framed as one.
A cloth's derivation class is its census of small patches
The manuals' derivations cut the 426 four-by-four cloths into 157 orbits, and an orbit is found by searching a group of 256 operations. The question left was whether a short list of numbers read off a draft could do the same job. The familiar ones cannot. Marks, interlacings, layers, plane group, float lengths, crossings per thread and distinct ends and picks are all invariant, and all seven together tell 120 of the orbits apart. A census of the two-by-two patches a draft contains tells 127 apart. A census of its three-by-three patches tells all 157 apart — a complete invariant of derivation, computed by counting windows rather than by searching operations.
Two layers are warmer than they are thick
Six essays have taken a double cloth apart from the draft's side. None has asked what the reader gets. Divide one cloth's yarn into two layers and the fabric is 41 per cent thicker — √2, which is the account's own law — and about 70 per cent warmer, because dividing the yarn also divides the fibre fraction and the mixture conducts less. The gap widens with every further layer and never closes, and a shaft loom stops at two.
A covered cloth cannot be calendered
A calender widens a section at conserved area, and a thread may widen until it meets its neighbours. So the flattening is capped by the cover the cloth already has — ×30 on a scrim, ×1.32 at a cover of nine tenths, and exactly one at full cover. The plateau a calender buys falls to nothing along with it, which makes the lustre a nip can add and the cloth's opacity the same constraint read twice: a cloth that cannot be seen through is a cloth a calender cannot help.
Two bars cannot share a beam
Two guide bars each make one overlap a course and one underlap, and the overlap is the same object on both — the same needle, the same loop. So the difference in what they consume is exactly the difference in their underlaps, with no model of a loop in it: a cord bar wants 111 metres more yarn per wale than a tricot bar over a hundred-metre piece, and a satin bar 232. A shared beam is one course spacing of slack out after less than half a course.
The one fibre whose answer is known
A table of measured constants is worth what its worst row is worth, and nobody can tell which row that is. This one has a member whose answer was known before anybody measured it, and the ordering of the other nine turns out to say something about how fibres are made.
The shog is the anisotropy
An underlap is a straight run from one needle to another on the next course, so it is a hypotenuse — and its length is fixed while the two spacings are not. Pulling the fabric wider turns it towards the horizontal and pulls the courses together, on a circle. Every state a warp knit's underlaps allow lies on that circle, its as-knitted point sits where the shog puts it, and the ratio of the length it can give to the width it can give runs from 2.3 at a tricot to 218 at four needle spaces.
A drying cloth cannot lift what a sealed tube can
Every rise on this account is an equilibrium in a sealed tube, and a garment is neither sealed nor at equilibrium. Balancing the supply up a strip against the loss from its faces gives a quadratic whose width cancels exactly: in an ordinary room the fine system between the fibres stands at 500 millimetres instead of 6.37 metres, keeping 7.9 per cent of what a tube would give it, while the coarse system loses a third of a per cent. The forty-sixfold advantage becomes 3.7, and in a drying wind it reverses.
A stitch takes back what the parallel rule cannot see
Dividing a cloth's yarn into two layers makes it warmer than its thickness, and the essay that found it computed the warmth by the one mixing rule that cannot see a stitch — the one that treats every fibre as though it ran straight through the cloth. That rule gives the largest bonus there is. Yarn in a cloth lies in its plane, and by the rule for fibres lying across the heat's path a double muslin's bonus is 8.4 per cent, not 18.8. A stitch is the one fibre that does run through the cloth, and at half the intersections it takes the whole bonus back.
A heel turns a right angle because of the loop
A sock's heel is knitted in short rows on half the needles until a third are left, then back out again. Down the back line that adds a length of courses, and a tube's back line longer than its front by that much has turned through π times two thirds over the loop's own aspect — 93.8 degrees, on any needle count, in any yarn. The trade's third is the loop's shape in disguise. What the rule does not do is make a bend: the heel supplies two thirds of the fabric a true right angle needs, and every missing stitch is on its sides.