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Writing Notes: Clothing Textures

When you think of textured clothing, you might imagine a scratchy wool sweater or a soft fur coat, but every clothing item has some kind of texture. The texture of fabric is often determined by the type of weave, so it’s a good idea to get to know the 3 major weave types:

Twill: The distinguishing characteristic of the twill weave is its diagonal rib pattern. Twill weaves have a distinct, often dark-colored front side (called the wale) and a lighter back. Twill has high thread count, which means that the fabric is opaque, thick, and durable, making it perfect for chinos, upholstery, and bed linens. Denim is a twill weave fabric, as are tweed and houndstooth.

Satin weave: The satin weave creates a fabric that is shiny, soft, and elastic with a beautiful drape. Satin fabric has a lustrous surface on one side and a dull, matte surface on the other side. Satin is perfect for haute couture-style dresses and clutches.

Plain weave: Plain weave fabrics, including canvas, taffeta, and muslin, are made by overlapping the warp and weft (vertical and horizontal threads) at right angles. This forms a criss-cross pattern that looks the same on both sides of the fabric.

Common Fabric Textures

The types of fabric you’ll encounter when looking for different textures include:

Denim is a strong cotton fabric with a twill weave that gives it a subtle diagonal ribbing pattern. The diagonal ribbing is what makes denim fabric different from canvas or cotton duck, which are also sturdy, woven cotton fabrics.

Broadcloth is a plain-weave fabric that is traditionally woven from thick wool yarn—the fibres of which felt together as the cloth is made. Broadcloth is sturdy, stiff, and resistant to wind and water.

Seersucker is a type of thin cotton cloth. The way it is woven causes the threads to pucker and bunch, creating crinkles. Seersucker often comes in narrow white and blue stripes and is popular in summer fashion.

Corduroy is a soft, durable fabric. It is distinctive for the tufted cords—called “wales”—that run in parallel along its surface. Corduroy is typically made from cotton, but it can also be made from wool.

Leather is any fabric that is made from animal hides or skin, with cowhide being the most popular.

Suede is a type of leather made from the soft underside of an animal skin. It is softer, thinner, and more delicate than traditional full-grain leather. Suede is ideal for footwear, jackets, and accessories like belts and bags.

Brocade is a particular style of jacquard fabric that uses additional threads to create a raised pattern, resulting in an embossed or embroidered effect. Due to the technique used to make it, brocade fabric is not reversible, and it may appear rough or unfinished on the underside.

Silk is a natural fiber produced by the silkworm. Silk is incredibly durable, with a shine and softness that are unmatched. Silk fabric is used for formal attire and accessories like pocket squares.

Cashmere is a type of fabric made from the wool of cashmere goats and pashmina goats. Cashmere is a natural fiber with an extremely soft feel and great insulation. Cashmere is significantly warmer and lighter than cloth made from sheep’s wool. Often, cashmere is blended with other types of wool, like merino, to give it added weight, since cashmere fibers are very fine and thin.

Jersey is a soft, stretchy knit fabric that was originally made from wool. Today, jersey is also made from cotton, cotton blends, and synthetic fibers. The fabric is usually light-to-medium weight and is used for a variety of cotton clothing items, such as T-shirts.

Flannel is a soft woven fabric typically made from cotton. It is a common material for plaid shirts.

How to Mix and Match Clothing Textures

Texture is an easy way to add visual interest to an outfit. By layering different textures, you can create a distinct look.

Identify neutral textures. Mixing and matching textures is similar to mixing and matching patterns and prints. In the same way that certain classic prints appear neutral, simple textures can serve as a neutral base for wilder textures. Denim, cotton fabric, leather, and suede are some of the most basic textures that play well with other textures. Neutral textures that are smaller and less visible to the naked eye—like merino wool—pair well with more attention-grabbing textures.

Consider a texture’s typical context. Textures evoke specific moods. Silk lends a luxurious vibe to any outfit. A plaid flannel shirt can look cozy with corduroy, but it becomes more serious when paired with a black leather jacket. Denim is a casual texture you can use to dress down other fabrics: Pair a satin tank with jeans—rather than something like brushed wool trousers—for a relaxed yet stylish look. Think about the context in which you might wear a particular material, then pair that material with other textures to subvert expectations.

Mix textures, match colors. Sticking to a more limited color palette will give you free range to play with different kinds of textures. That doesn’t mean you have to dress in monochrome: You can use neutral colors to anchor your look, or choose two or three solid colors that work together.

Source ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs ⚜ How to Describe Clothing

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I was trying to find the part in The Six Napoleons when Watson squares up to the bust in Mr Hudson's shop. Instead, I came across a series of "Come, Watson" and found I couldn't resist. Holmes is a clingy cat and can not go anywhere without his Watson, or he falls apart. He needs his Watson, and that will forever be adorable to me

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TETHERED Ch 7: Some Pains Just Need Company

“I was waiting for you.”

That was all. No questions sharpened into concern.

She rose with quiet ease and crossed the room in near silence. Her hand hovered in his line of sight, not sudden, just steady, before it settled on his cheek.

A hundred instincts flared at once: to step back, to snap, to disappear into logic. But he stood there and let it happen. Let her touch the raw, sea-stung version of himself, the one with no defences left.

Her thumb brushed through the coarse edge of his beard, where dried salt still clung to skin. The whirring sound of it, that small, soft friction, stirred something in him. He hadn't known there were tears left.

“Let me help you,” she whispered, almost inaudible.

He closed his eyes and gave a slight nod. He desired nothing more than that. It was surrender, not permission. Thought had slipped from him hours ago. All that remained was this hollow ache — this ache, and her .

Her fingers brushed the collar of his coat, gentle but sure. She didn’t pull, just guided, slow and certain, the fabric slipping from his shoulders.

She hung his coat over the hook, neat and deliberate.

It shouldn’t have caught him. It was only a gesture, domestic and undemanding. But her nearness, her silence, the precise, gentle way she didn’t ask,

It undid him.

He lowered his gaze, blinking hard as heat pricked at the corners of his eyes, untimely and utterly beyond his control.

He stood motionless before her, just for a beat. Then his shoulders dipped.

Not much. Just a tilt forward, slow and graceless, until his forehead came to rest against her shoulder. Not clinging, not holding. Just leaning.

His breath hitched. Once. Then again. Her scent filled his senses, but not even that could hold everything in.

“It… hurts,” he muttered — choked and wrecked, not really meaning to say it aloud.

Her hand rose instinctively, steady against the small of his back. The contact made his muscles tense and then suddenly slacken, as if he could finally stop holding himself together.

“I know,” she whispered.

He stayed there, breathing shallow. Then pulled back, not meeting her eyes.

“I walked,” he said, voice low. “Meant to come home sooner.” A pause, thick. “Didn’t.”

She shook her head, her raven black hair moving with the movement,  “That’s all right.”

“I don’t…” The words came slowly, scraped raw. “I went to a meeting, but… I didn’t want to talk. Not then.”

She nodded once. “Do you want to now?”

He hesitated. The question lingered between them; open, patient. After a beat:

“…A little.”

Watson gave him that sad smile, the one she saved for moments like this, when she saw something in him he hadn’t yet admitted to himself. It always felt as if she could look straight through to his soul. If he believed in that sort of codswallop.

Her hand, still at the small of his back, steady and warm, guided him toward the library and the fire that had been burning for some time. He sank into the armchair nearest the flames, a sudden cold sweat prickling at his collar, one that had nothing to do with temperature.

She sat beside him and adjusted her leg under her, wincing slightly as she muttered something under her breath; he only caught the words “bloody hip”. A moment later, she was composed again, but he noticed.

They sat by the fire, the last embers glowing low. She had made tea for him, which had long since cooled. Still, he sipped, as if the warmth mattered less than the ritual.

Continue reading on Fanfiction and Wattpad as well.

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Snape: *rubbing at his temples* I- I have tried so hard, so focused on not becoming my parents.... *his voice turns into a strained whisper* I never realised... I was turning into my mother. *he frowns and turns to McGonagall unamused*

McGonagall: *knowing, smug smile*

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Mansfield Park (1999), dir. Patricia Rozema

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elementary bloopers (1/?)

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I still don’t understand it: why they hate us so much. V FOR VENDETTA 2005 | dir. James McTeigue

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...the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot. V FOR VENDETTA 2005 — dir. James McTeigue

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still not over the stephen colbert thing, the way they're punishing him so much by not only essentially firing him but cancelling the show he loves in its entirety, which means also punishing all 200 people who work for and with him on the show.

it is setting an example. it's saying, "this is what happens when you speak truth to power. we will not only punish you. we'll punish the people around you that you've led and loved. is it worth it now, stephen? would it be worth it, other late night talk show hosts? if you don't keep quiet, we will quiet you". the other late night talk show hosts are not all under paramount (iirc, it's just the daily show), but this sets a precedent that tells them they are all vulnerable.

"it's not a big deal" idk man it really seems like it is

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this gif lives in my head rent free

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TETHERED Ch 7: Some Pains Just Need Company

“I was waiting for you.”

That was all. No questions sharpened into concern.

She rose with quiet ease and crossed the room in near silence. Her hand hovered in his line of sight, not sudden, just steady, before it settled on his cheek.

A hundred instincts flared at once: to step back, to snap, to disappear into logic. But he stood there and let it happen. Let her touch the raw, sea-stung version of himself, the one with no defences left.

Her thumb brushed through the coarse edge of his beard, where dried salt still clung to skin. The whirring sound of it, that small, soft friction, stirred something in him. He hadn't known there were tears left.

���Let me help you,” she whispered, almost inaudible.

He closed his eyes and gave a slight nod. He desired nothing more than that. It was surrender, not permission. Thought had slipped from him hours ago. All that remained was this hollow ache — this ache, and her .

Her fingers brushed the collar of his coat, gentle but sure. She didn’t pull, just guided, slow and certain, the fabric slipping from his shoulders.

She hung his coat over the hook, neat and deliberate.

It shouldn’t have caught him. It was only a gesture, domestic and undemanding. But her nearness, her silence, the precise, gentle way she didn’t ask,

It undid him.

He lowered his gaze, blinking hard as heat pricked at the corners of his eyes, untimely and utterly beyond his control.

He stood motionless before her, just for a beat. Then his shoulders dipped.

Not much. Just a tilt forward, slow and graceless, until his forehead came to rest against her shoulder. Not clinging, not holding. Just leaning.

His breath hitched. Once. Then again. Her scent filled his senses, but not even that could hold everything in.

“It… hurts,” he muttered — choked and wrecked, not really meaning to say it aloud.

Her hand rose instinctively, steady against the small of his back. The contact made his muscles tense and then suddenly slacken, as if he could finally stop holding himself together.

“I know,” she whispered.

He stayed there, breathing shallow. Then pulled back, not meeting her eyes.

“I walked,” he said, voice low. “Meant to come home sooner.” A pause, thick. “Didn’t.”

She shook her head, her raven black hair moving with the movement,  “That’s all right.”

“I don’t…” The words came slowly, scraped raw. “I went to a meeting, but… I didn’t want to talk. Not then.”

She nodded once. “Do you want to now?”

He hesitated. The question lingered between them; open, patient. After a beat:

“…A little.”

Watson gave him that sad smile, the one she saved for moments like this, when she saw something in him he hadn’t yet admitted to himself. It always felt as if she could look straight through to his soul. If he believed in that sort of codswallop.

Her hand, still at the small of his back, steady and warm, guided him toward the library and the fire that had been burning for some time. He sank into the armchair nearest the flames, a sudden cold sweat prickling at his collar, one that had nothing to do with temperature.

She sat beside him and adjusted her leg under her, wincing slightly as she muttered something under her breath; he only caught the words “bloody hip”. A moment later, she was composed again, but he noticed.

They sat by the fire, the last embers glowing low. She had made tea for him, which had long since cooled. Still, he sipped, as if the warmth mattered less than the ritual.

Continue reading on Fanfiction and Wattpad as well.

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❤