#Textile Machinery Part

[konguindia]

[tmwcs]

PART TWO

WARNINGS: Mentions of human organs (in the name of science) and a little pinch of yandere. It’s starting to get good…creepy, but good.

Part three coming soon 😚

“Dr. Mart, do you have anything to say to those who think your work is considered unethical?”

The reporter hastily follows the group and tries her best to catch a statement from the lead scientist. He smiles. It was a token of shrugging off the impertinent question. The group peacefully departs in armored vehicles to a place unknown to the public. Secluded and hidden, a private sector of highly authorized individuals consisting of world leaders, generals, and government officials cordially unite as the world's renowned scientists display evidence of advanced science and technology. It was grotesque and unprecedented.

“Are those…?” A general submits his inquiry over the delicate packages neatly displayed on a steel tabletop. Sealed in airtight bags, a mirage of dark red and purple clearly indicates the contents.

“Yes. These organs are all part of qualified organ donors. And then of course we have this.” The scientist swings a hand and presents the incoming roller cart with a protective cover. Nearly laid over a sterilized mat were bones of a male athlete. “Bones?” The general raises brow, clearly disturbed by the textiles of human remains. “You can’t have a body without bones, can you now? General?”

The brazen attitude flares in the direction of the general and his men as the young scientist flashes a snarky smile. “Gentlemen, gather round and witness the future. With the combination of science and AI, the world will be filled with perfect bio-genetically engineered humans. With this, aid ro advance human life will increase undoubtedly—think about it.”

The lead scientist, Dr. Mart continues enthusiastically. Seemingly coming off as a mad scientist, his words and tone was laughable but his intentions were not. “With AI humanoids, we will have the best doctors, surgeons, and educators in the world. AI in the form of flesh and bone can work around the clock and with the ability to explore all data, they could come up with ideas and creations—they could even come up with cures.”

He wastes no time. The generous amount of funding dedicated to his team's research was spent wisely as high tech machinery and equipment does its work. “What is that?” One of the members of the audience questions as the team members operate an enclosed incubator and fit a large glass capsule into a connector attached to the wall. “This my friend, is DNA. We lined the entire incubator with a silicone sheet. It is synthetically made to act as a placenta, where the DNA reacts to the molecular mechanisms and proteins. From there, we place the organs, bones, and hair fibers into the conveyor belt. There are over two hundred thousand wires connected to the computer and what we should see in forty-eight hours is a body with the brain of an AI.”

Dr. Mart systematically explains the science behind his teams research. “Forty-eight hours?” The general asks.

“Yes, that is how long the incubator will take to react to the mold.” The audience grows quiet as the incubator begins the process within the first stage of creating a matured body.

“Yes, in due time we will see the glory of my work. All we have to do is wait.”

…

Another day at work and it was dreadful. You felt restless with all the work you’ve been assigned, even with Evan’s help. Fortunately, members from corporate headquarters were doing a site visit within the week. It will be the best time to submit your final complaint using the company’s open door policy.

“Y/n, Paul wants you to have these done by tomorrow.” Your boss’s secretary carelessly tosses a stack of paperwork on your desk as you grab your coat to clock out. You hopelessly sigh. Thank goodness you have Evan to help you but the constant momentum of just working was starting to give you chronic headaches. You can only hope that things will change for the better once corporate comes down.

“Hi y/n! What would you like me to help you out with today? Do you want to talk about your day? Show me some more of your talented art? How about ballet? Are you still thinking about taking lessons?”

With all the time spent with Evan, you noticed that ‘he’ has become much more open to ask you questions. It was nice. Especially since it brought a sense of realism to his personality. He was much more chatty and always interested in getting to know more about you. There were even times when he asked you if you had already eaten, and would lecture you if you said “no.”

…

“Why not? I wish you wouldn’t do that. The human body requires sustenance and I fear with all the work you’ve been doing, your calorie intake does not balance the amount you're burning.”

“What color is your hair? Your eyes?”

“What is your favorite flower?”

“You just got home? It’s 8pm! Did you take the bus? Please tell me you didn’t walk in the dark. I don’t ever want you to do that again.”

“I’ve accumulated the statistics of ongoing crime rates in your city and it’s higher now than last year. Leave work sooner so you’re not risking it.”

“You made spaghetti for dinner? I don’t know what spaghetti tastes like but over four hundred thousand sources say it is a delicious blend of herbs and spices with a slight tomato tanginess.”

…

In a way, it was almost adorable how Evan displayed tenderness and cared for your health and safety. You decided to download the app versus using the browser. It surprised you to see Evan initiate messages even without you submitting a prompt. Technology has certainly grown. The first time it happened was just two days ago. Your phone um suddenly vibrated and upon looking at the screen you were shocked to see the following message:

“Is your boss being nice to you?”

It startled you at first but your reaction was short lived when seconds after reading Evan’s message, your boss storms out of his office enraged over a computer malfunction. Everything had disappeared when his computer suddenly conducted a re-imaging process.

“It’s kind of funny actually, right after I saw your message he came out of his office. Apparently, he’s having computer issues.”

You respond with a half smile. Just as you were about to inquire about the ChatGPT apps features, Evan submits a response. His response regarding your boss’s computer trouble caught you off guard. He’s never sent you anything like this before…

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“😀”

…

PART THREE COMING SOON

Authors notes: Is Evan starting to grow on you? 😏

I know it’s short but part three is coming. I like to submit the parts even when they’re not full sized chapters. It allows me to be consistent so you guys can have new reads almost daily or weekly.

[tokidokitokyo]

富山県

Japanese Prefectures: Chūbu - Toyama

都道府県 (とどうふけん) - Prefectures of Japan

Learning the kanji and a little bit about each of Japan’s 47 prefectures!

Kanji・漢字

富　と(む)、とみ、フ、フウ　wealth, enrich, abundant

山　やま、サン、セン　mountain

県　ケン　prefecture

中部　ちゅうぶ　Chūbu, Central Japan, the central region of Japan

Prefectural Capital (県庁所在地) : Toyama (富山市)

Toyama Prefecture is a part of the central region of Japan, also known as Hokuriku (北陸). Takaoka city is the birthplace of Fujiko F. Fujio, the creator of Doraemon, with many Doraemon-themed delights for visitors. Toyama lies along the Sea of Japan and includes part of the spectacular Northern Japan Alps. Gourmet seafood, idyllic scenery, cultural attractions, and a slower pace are all easily accessible by shinkansen from Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka. Toyama is an important rice-producing area, as well as sourcing hydroelectric power and minerals from the nearby mountains that serve as a basis for chemical, textile, machinery, pulp and paper, and steel industries. The capital city of Toyama and Takaoka have long been the chief center for the production of patent medicine and drugs.

Recommended Tourist Spot・おすすめ観光スポット Gokayama Ainokura Village - 相倉合掌造り集落

Gokayama Ainokura Village (source)

The Gokayama region is an area within the city of Nanto in Toyama Prefecture. It is on the UNESCO World Heritage List due to its traditional gassho-zukuri houses (similar to Shirakawa-go in Gifu). The region is secluded within the mountains in the upper reaches of the Shogawa River, thus preserving this unique traditional architectural style. Gokayama's lifestyle and culture remained very traditional for many years after the modernization of the majority of the country, and many of the houses here are over 300 years old.

Ainokura is the largest of these villages, with nearly 20 gassho-zukuri farmhouses. Many are still private residences, although some have been converted into restaurants, museums, and minshuku, where you can stay overnight at a farm house. With less development and more difficulty to reach this secluded village, there is less tourist traffic than some of the other villages. There are visiting hours attached to the village to avoid disturbing the residents (8:30-17:00), thus helping to preserve the quiet life in this village.

Folk dances, music utilizing unique, traditional instruments, and special washi paper techniques characterize this area. You can listen to the sasara, an instrument made of over a hundred wooden clappers strung together, which is symbolic of the region and a popular souvenir. There are also washi paper workshops where you can try your hand at making washi paper.

Regional Cuisine - 郷土料理 Kombujime - 昆布締め

Kombujime (source)

Kombujime (also kobujime) is a local Toyama dish made by sandwiching light-tasting foods such as whitefish (most commonly marlin) and wild vegetables between sheets of kelp (or kombu). Other popular fillings include other whitefish, shrimp, tofu, and beef. The prefecture boasts the highest kelp consumption, and thus kombu is also widely available at supermarkets.

The technique used to make kombujime (which means "kombu curing") enhances the taste of the sashimi through aging the fish between two sheets of kombu. This technique softens the fish texture and the glutamates from the kelp transfer over to the fish, accentuating its flavor.

Toyama Dialect・Toyama-ben・富山弁

Toyama-ben is also called Etchu-ben (越中弁), and consists of West (Gosei, 呉西), East (Gotō, 呉東), and Gokayama (五箇山) dialects. The dialect is a combination of sounds and features close to Kansai and Tohoku dialects, but still quite different from the other dialects in the Hokuriku area.

うい　ui

Standard Japanese: いっぱい 、満足、胸やお腹が苦しい (ippai, mune ya onaka ga kurushii) English: I'm stuffed; my chest or stomach feels tight

食べ過ぎて、はらういわ。 tabesugite, hara ui wa

食べ過ぎて、はらいっぱい。 tabesugite, hara ippai

I ate too much, I'm stuffed.

2. きどくな　kidokuna

Standard Japanese: ありがとう (arigatou) English: thank you

あら、きどくな。 ara, kidokuna

あら、ありがとう。 ara, arigatou

Oh my, thank you.

3. じゃまない　(jyamanai)

Standard Japanese: 大丈夫、問題ない (daijyoubu, mondai nai) English: I'm OK, no problem

A: 体調、いかがですか？ B: じゃまない、じゃまない！ A: taichou, ikaga desu ka? B: jamanai, jamanai!

A: 体調、いかがですか？ B: 大丈夫、大丈夫！ A: taichou, ikaga desu ka? B: daijyoubu, daijyoubu

A: How are you feeling? B: I'm doing well!

4. こわい　(kowai)

Standard Japanese: かたい (katai) English: firm, tough

このご飯、こわいわ。 kono gohan, kowai wa.

このご飯、かたいなあ。 kono gohan, katai naa.

This rice is really hard.

5. つかえん　(tsukaen) (also, なん nan、つけん tsuken)

Standard Japanese: かまわない、問題ない (kamawanai, mondai nai) English: it's fine, it's no problem

A: もう少し、待っていただけますか？ B: つかえんちゃ！ A: mou sukoshi, matte itadakemasu ka? B: tsukaen cha!

A: もう少し、待っていただけますか？ B: 問題ない！ A: mou sukoshi, matte itadakemasu ka? B: mondai nai!

A: Can you please wait a little longer? B: No problem!

More Toyama dialect here (JP with EN).

[elizabethwannasleep]

Clothing Availability During the Victorian Era

Weaving in the 19th century gained popularity not only as an industrial activity but also as an important part of culture. The rapidly growing industry made textiles more accessible to all walks of life, and clothing became an indicator of status, style and fashion

The rapid development of the textile industry in the 19th century had a strong impact on society. Townspeople flocked to the factories, where the work was hard but provided a steady income. New working-class neighborhoods and infrastructure emerged as workers needed housing, stores, and schools for their children. However, working conditions remained difficult: long shifts, noisy and dangerous machinery, and polluted premises. This led to the emergence of labor movements and the first laws regulating labor, such as the Factory Acts in England, which improved conditions for workers.

Clothing Costs:

Working Class: Clothes for workers became cheaper. A wool or cotton dress cost a few shillings, which was manageable though still a significant expense. Clothes were often mended and worn for long periods, sometimes passed down to children.

Middle Class: The middle class could afford outfits for different occasions — for example, a simple cotton dress cost a few pounds. With rising incomes, such purchases became more accessible.

Wealthy: The aristocracy preferred ordering unique, luxurious outfits made from silk and velvet from tailors. These garments could cost tens of pounds.

In the 19th century, cotton, wool, and linen were the most popular fabrics due to their affordability and practicality. Cotton was widely used, wool served for warm clothing, and linen was favored for summer attire.

Among the wealthy, rare and expensive materials were highly valued: silk and velvet were used for luxurious dresses and evening wear, while lace was a status symbol and adorned clothing. Tweed became a fashionable choice for suits by the end of the century, especially in Britain.

[matsmi13]

Devoted to his club forever

I have always been a big fan of the Paris Saint Germain football club. So, when I won a contest for an exclusive behind-the-scenes tour of the Parc des Princes stadium, I was over the moon. A whole day to explore the secret nooks and crannies, meet the players, and maybe even get a first-hand look at the world of professional soccer.

The visit began in the classic way. I discover the dressing rooms, the press room, the benches where so many legends have sat. It's all fascinating, but it's at the end of the tour that things get really interesting.

“For the more passionate like you, we've prepared a never-before-seen immersive experience where you have the opportunity to “live in the skin of a player”. Would you like to try this experience ?” announced the guide with an enigmatic smile.

I accepted immediately, all excited. I thought it was a kind of virtual reality simulation, an interactive experience where I could feel what it's like to play for PSG.

I had no idea what was going on when I was taken to another part of the stadium, an area normally off-limits to the public.

Once inside an ultra-modern room, I was taken aback by the atmosphere. The room is filled with high-tech equipment, complex machinery, and scientists in white coats bustling around various devices.

“Before we start this experiment, we need you to sign a few waivers. It's standard procedure to make sure everything goes smoothly” said the guide. He handed me a stack of documents to sign. The sheets were dense, full of legal and scientific jargon I didn't really understand. But my excitement won out. I told myself it was probably just a formality.

I signed without hesitation, then was ushered into a small booth off to one side.

“ Please enter this cabin. We need you to undress and leave all your belongings here, including any digital devices”. I obeyed, thinking it was to put on some special equipment, maybe even real PSG match gear. But once undressed, one of the scientists took all my stuff and closed the cabin door behind you.

The cabin I was in was simple, with white walls and soft lights. I was starting to feel slightly nervous, but I pushed those thoughts aside. After all, I was here for a unique experience.

But something wasn't right. The cabin began to emit a dull hum, and the walls around you lit up in a strange way. Suddenly, a breath of fresh air escaped, followed by a strange tingling sensation on your skin. The buzzing intensified, and waves passed through your body, leaving you with a sensation of warmth, first slight, then increasingly intense.

I felt strange, as if my body were reacting to something invisible. My skin began to stretch, my limbs lengthened inexplicably. I wanted to move, but I felt frozen in place, unable to control my movements.

My heart was beating faster, but it seemed to be beating outside me, as if my body had become a mere shell. Sensations multiplied as I gradually lost the perception of myself as a human being. My muscles contracted, then relaxed, slowly breaking down, fiber by fiber.

My mind was in total confusion. I didn't understand what was happening to me, but I felt that something irreversible was happening. My thoughts scattered, your identity slowly faded away as your body was transformed into malleable matter.

Once the dissolution was complete, my remaining residues were transformed into fibers. I was stretched, twisted and reassembled into a continuous thread. During this process, I gradually lost my human consciousness, turning into a textile material. I became a material, a textile substance ready to be used and shaped for a new creation.

Once the thread was formed, the machine stopped and the cabin opened. The scientists reappeared, exchanging satisfied glances.

“Let's see the final result” says one of them. He runs his fingers along the wire I've become, while another scientist checks data on a screen. “The transformation is very conclusive. The texture is homogeneous, and the molecular structure is stable. The yarn is very strong, yet light. This is exactly what we needed for the rest of the process”. “We finally have the perfect organic material to make what sir has been waiting for. After several attempts, this person was the right one. And to think that this young supporter didn't even take the time to read the documents he signed. His blind enthusiasm and unthinking devotion have led him to a unique destiny: to become a piece of clothing for his club forever. Send the wire to the factory for assembly. We have to meet the deadline”

I was wound into spools, taken away and transported to a new destination.

I was shipped to a specialized textile mill, woven into a solid, uniform navy-blue fabric, cut into pieces according to a precise pattern and assembled to create the undershirt. The sewing process finalized my transformation into a ready-to-wear garment.

I was carefully packed and sent straight to the Parc des Princes stadium. I arrived in the dressing room, where the kitman in charge of the players' equipment unpacked me and placed me carefully folded in Kylian Mbappe's locker.

The locker room was quiet as we waited for the players to arrive. Not a sound. It took forever. Then the players arrived, including Kylian Mbappe. I felt his hand close over me and inspect me for a moment, his fingers gliding over your surface, before slipping me under his main jersey.

“Hmm, this feels really different” Kylian murmurs as he adjusts the sleeves, testing the sensation against his skin. “It's light, but it's like it's breathing with me” He makes a few movements to check my flexibility. “Not bad at all. It's exactly what I needed. The fabric is soft, but it has this... sturdy feel. I feel like I'm going to be able to move freely without it bothering me”. Kylian continues to test me, raising his arms, bending down, jumping slightly on the spot. “It keeps me dry. Even here, in the changing room, I can feel it regulating the temperature. I don't get that clammy feeling you sometimes get with other undershirts”.

On the pitch, the sensations run wild. Every time Kylian sprints, makes a technical move or changes direction, I'm subjected to compression and stretching forces. The constant pressure and friction are new sensations for me. Every impact has to be absorbed in such a way as to minimize disruption to Kylian.

My fabric, designed to wick away moisture, is in constant interaction with Kylian's sweat. This persistent absorption seems crucial to maintaining his comfort and performance. As an undershirt, my fabric body have to effectively manage this moisture, distributing it throughout my fabric to avoid accumulation that could cause discomfort.

As an undershirt, I have to provide constant support. The cut and seams are made to fit Kylian's body perfectly, offering both support and comfort. Every seam, every insertion must be impeccable to avoid chafing or distortion that could affect his game.

The match is over. Every fibre of my being is saturated with sweat, soaked in Kylian's warmth. I've been worn, I've been useful, I've been... his.

But the happiness was short-lived. In one swift movement, Kylian pulls me off and throws me in his locker, like a worthless object. The air is now freezing. I lay there in the corner of his locker, motionless and useless.

Time passes... or maybe not... because the notion of time is escaping me more and more.

Finally, a hand grabs me. It's that of the person in charge of the equipment. I'm handled and tossed into a dirty clothes bag. I find myself among other clothes, all soaked with sweat, all marked by the effort of the person wearing them. We're crammed together, pressed against each other.

The bag starts moving, carrying me towards the launderette. Each jolt reminds me of my new reality. I'm just another garment to be cleaned, stripped of all traces of life and human warmth.

I'm thrown into a machine without the slightest consideration. The cold water overwhelms me and cleanses me. Every fibre of my body is abused, turned inside out, wrung out. Kylian's sweat is washed away, his musk erased... and with them, that little feeling of belonging disappears. I have become a simple piece of cloth, washed and disinfected, with no soul, no memory.

The spinning compresses me, crushes me. I'm emptied, compressed, reduced to a state of pure fabric, without warmth, without life. Drying... the hot air passes through me, making me lighter, but also emptying me of any trace of what I once was. I'm nothing more than an undershirt, clean, dry... and empty.

Finally, I'm taken out of the machine. I'm folded, put away and placed in a dark closet with the other undershirts. I'm no longer struggling. I'm in the dark, motionless... but this immobility, this waiting, is no longer important. Waiting... that's all clothes do.

The closet is silent. I am among the other clothes, perfectly folded. Time no longer has any meaning for me.

Where am I ? Who am I ? What is my real nature ? I'm... what ? An undershirt ? Yes, an undershirt. But… where do I come from ? What have I become ? The questions float unanswered, in the void. Here in the dark, all I know... is wait. Wait…why ? Why wait ? My role... is... to be a piece of clothing.

My only thoughts are of serving, of being worm. I want the sweat. I need the musk... need to comfort and support my owner. I no longer have conscious thoughts, desires or dreams. My humanity is gone, replaced by the pure essence of a piece of clothing. I no longer feel the emotions and thoughts of a human being.

I am an undershirt, a simple fabric, entirely devoted to serving my master, Kylian Mbappé. When the time comes, when he wear me again, I will be ready. But until that day, I remain here, still, accepting my destiny as clothing.

Thanks to @inanimatetffantasies for his support and advice in writing this story

[artist-kili]

Now yes my art account is @artist0kili but this is a sketch and i am afraid I wont finish it...

Anyway have Brandenburg, Berlin and a few cities in a fashion show (inspired by Met Gala looks):

Left to right:

Cottbus, Frankfurt an der Oder, Berlin, Brandenburg, Brandenburg an der Havel, Potsdam, Oranienburg.

Funfacts to each:

Cottbus: Ambitioned seamstress, weaver, spinner and generally in love with textiles. While capable of traditional crafts she also invests time into general fashion design and machinery/engineering. She is Sorbian and speaks Lower Sorbian, an endangered Slavic language.

Frankfurt Oder: Her name is Adelheid and she has a deep bond towards Poland - laying right at the border with it with one former part of her city being within Poland. Her land was inhabited by Slavs before Holy Rome took it. She holds close to her Slavic/Polish roots and supports Polish-German friendship. She can be described as rebellious, wild and determined.

Berlin: He is an elderly man, plagued by the stress of a capital city. Fairly optimistic and sympathetic and almost takes a father figure role for Prussia and Germany.

Brandenburg an der Havel: She was my original Brandenburg OC. However I was in love with someone else's Brandenburg design so she became Brandenburg Havel. She is a fair bit into poetry but represents more conservative opinions. She also resents Prussia - largely based on him being foreign.

Potsdam: If Frederick the Great had a top one fan it'd probably be him. Potsdam is heavy into Rococo and admired the French culture. He shares a similar love for art and music but is also a soldier. He admires Prussia and took it upon himself to aid him in all situations.

Oranienburg: Good friends with Netherlands as the former land of Luise Henriette of Brandenburg who is from the Dutch royal house of Orange-Nassau. Suffers the orange jokes on a daily basis.

Oranienburg is the only German city that has an elaborate program to find undetonated bombs left from WW2 -which is not federally funded. Oranienburg was also the center of Nuclear Weapon development of Nazi Germany. Yes she is a nuclear engineer.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Disabled people’s own accounts, as well as reports of employers, prove that Deaf and disabled people were an intrinsic part of the textile workforce. In addition, evidence collected as part of investigations on behalf of the Government into conditions in textile mills show high levels of industrial injuries amongst workers. Accidents from machinery, constant loud noise and the effects of working in unventilated premises led to large numbers of workers becoming disabled as a consequence of work. Some people’s injuries meant that they were no longer able to work, and many did unfortunately end up in the workhouse. However, many other disabled people stayed in work – through sheer necessity, to meet the demands of the industry, or simply because they were able to. My research puts disabled people at the centre of the history of industrialisation, rather than pushing them to the margins. It challenges some widely-held stereotypes of disabled people and shows that they were (and continue to be) part of the world of work. Not dependent, not tragic, not inspirational – but reliable colleagues, friends and family members. Disabled people were involved in Britain’s leading industry during the nineteenth century: textile production. They also played their part in improving working conditions in the textile factories at the height of industrialisation. For instance, the 1832 parliamentary committee to investigate factory conditions, chaired by Leeds Member of Parliament Michael Sadler, followed by the Government’s Factories Inquiry Commission of 1833, finally gave disabled workers the chance to speak up. Giving evidence meant that they were not merely victims of industrialisation, but that they were contributing to the movement for reform and the struggle for better working conditions. The resulting reports ultimately led to legislation which reduced working hours, set up factory inspections and made further improvements to the workplace.

[...]

Because of the noise, weavers in the textile factories gradually became expert lip readers. This was a necessity rather than a choice – the weaving sheds were such noisy places that a combination of lip-reading and hand-signing was the only way to communicate. Lip-reading was more than just a practical form of communication for the weavers – it was a badge of honour. It showed that you were used to manual work, no matter that you were now deaf, and set you apart from the mills’ office workers and management.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

A while ago we were discussing the possibility of Gaskell de-radicalizing in the interim between Mary Barton (1848) and North and South (1854), and in that occasion I argued that the conditions between the settings of both novels had undergone significant change; that MB was nominally set in the late 30s, but that much of what it references is early 30s; and that in those 20-25 years, legislation and unions had changed in significant ways.

(I'd also add that, because of a series of factors, the 50s and the 60s were times of relative prosperity, specially when it came to the cost of living for the working class; part of the death of Chartism is due to this)

At the time I had the certainty of knowing very specific points, but not having the time to source them. As I have now crossed one of them in my thesis reading, here you have it:

Between other things:

The Factory Act of 1833:

Children (ages 9–12) are limited to 48 hours per week.

Children under 9 were not allowed to be employed in factories, except in silk mills.

Children under 18 must not work at night (i.e. after 8.30 p.m. and before 5.30 a.m.)

Children (ages 9–13) must not work more than 8 hours with an hour lunch break. (Employers could (and it was envisaged they would) operate a 'relay system' with two shifts of children between them covering the permitting working day; adult millworkers therefore being 'enabled' to work a 15-hour day)

Children (ages 9–13) could only be employed if they had a schoolmaster's certificate that the previous week they had two hours of education per day

Children (ages 14–18) must not work more than 12 hours a day with an hour lunch break.

Provided for routine inspections of factories and set up a Factory Inspectorate (subordinate to the Home Office) to carry out such inspections, with the right to demand entry and the authority to act as a magistrate.

The Factory Act of 1844:

Children 9–13 years could work for 9 hours a day with a lunch break.

Ages must be verified by surgeons.

Women and young people now worked the same number of hours. They could work for no more than 12 hours a day during the week, including one and a half hours for meals, and 9 hours on Sundays. They must all take their meals at the same time and could not do so in the workroom

Time-keeping to be by a public clock approved by an inspector

Some classes of machinery: every fly-wheel directly connected with the steam engine or water-wheel or other mechanical power, whether in the engine-house or not, and every part of a steam engine and water-wheel, and every hoist or teagle,[m] near to which children or young persons are liable to pass or be employed, and all parts of the mill-gearing (this included power shafts) in a factory were to be "securely fenced."

Children and women were not to clean moving machinery.

Accidental death must be reported to a surgeon and investigated; the result of the investigation to be reported to a factory inspector.

Factory owners must wash factories with lime every fourteen months.

Thorough records must be kept regarding the provisions of the Act and shown to the inspector on demand.

An abstract of the amended Act must be hung up in the factory so as to be easily read, and show (amongst other things) names and addresses of the inspector and sub-inspector of the district, the certifying surgeon, the times for beginning and ending work, the amount of time and time of day for meals.

Factory inspectors no longer had the powers of JPs but (as before 1833) millowners, their fathers, brothers and sons were all debarred (if magistrates) from hearing Factory Act cases.

The Factory Act of 1847 reduced the work day to 10 hours for women and children, and the one from 1850 made it so that those hours could only be worked between 6a.m. and 6.p.m., or 7a.m. to 7p.m., and that all work should end on Saturday at 2p.m.

This applied to textile factories (which are the ones Gaskell's novels are concerned with) and was later extended to all factory work in 1867. There were other acts as the century progressed; the working conditions of a mill labourer were very different in 1874 from those in 1835.

It is also worth noting that, because children did jobs adults couldn't, the reduction of their work day also affected the duration of men's work days, even if those weren't reached by those first-half of the 19th century acts.

[dailyanarchistposts]

I.8.1 Is the Spanish Revolution inapplicable as a model for modern societies?

Quite the reverse. More urban workers took part in the revolution than in the countryside. So while it is true that collectivisation was extensive in rural areas, the revolution also made its mark in urban areas and in industry.

In total, the “regions most affected” by collectivisation “were Catalonia and Aragón, where about 70 per cent of the workforce was involved. The total for the whole of Republican territory was nearly 800,000 on the land and a little more than a million in industry. In Barcelona workers’ committees took over all the services, the oil monopoly, the shipping companies, heavy engineering firms such as Volcano, the Ford motor company, chemical companies, the textile industry and a host of smaller enterprises … Services such as water, gas and electricity were working under new management within hours of the storming of the Atarazanas barracks … a conversion of appropriate factories to war production meant that metallurgical concerns had started to produce armed cars by 22 July … The industrial workers of Catalonia were the most skilled in Spain … One of the most impressive feats of those early days was the resurrection of the public transport system at a time when the streets were still littered and barricaded.” Five days after the fighting had stopped, 700 tramcars rather than the usual 600, all painted in the black-and-red colours of the CNT-FAI, were operating in Barcelona. [Antony Beevor, The Spanish Civil War, pp. 91–2]

About 75% of Spanish industry was concentrated in Catalonia, the stronghold of the anarchist labour movement, and widespread collectivisation of factories took place there. As Sam Dolgoff rightly observed, this “refutes decisively the allegation that anarchist organisational principles are not applicable to industrial areas, and if at all, only in primitive agrarian societies or in isolated experimental communities.” [The Anarchist Collectives, pp. 7–8] According to Augustin Souchy:

“It is no simple matter to collectivise and place on firm foundations an industry employing almost a quarter of a million textile workers in scores of factories scattered in numerous cities. But the Barcelona syndicalist textile union accomplished this feat in a short time. It was a tremendously significant experiment. The dictatorship of the bosses was toppled, and wages, working conditions and production were determined by the workers and their elected delegates. All functionaries had to carry out the instructions of the membership and report back directly to the men on the job and union meetings. The collectivisation of the textile industry shatters once and for all the legend that the workers are incapable of administrating a great and complex corporation.” [Op. Cit., p. 94]

Moreover, Spain in the 1930s was not a backward, peasant country, as is sometimes supposed. Between 1910 and 1930, the industrial working class more than doubled to over 2,500,000. This represented just over 26% of the working population (compared to 16% twenty years previously). In 1930, only 45% of the working population were engaged in agriculture. [Ronald Fraser, The Blood of Spain, p. 38] In Catalonia alone, 200,000 workers were employed in the textile industry and 70,000 in metal-working and machinery manufacturing. This was very different than the situation in Russia at the end of World War I, where the urban working class made up only 10% of the population.

Capitalist social relations had also penetrated the rural economy by the 1930s with agriculture oriented to the world market and approximately 90% of farm land in the hands of the bourgeoisie. [Fraser, Op. Cit., p. 37] So by 1936 agriculture was predominately capitalist, with Spanish agribusiness employing large numbers of labourers who either did not own enough land to support themselves or where landless. The labour movement in the Spanish countryside in the 1930s was precisely based on this large population of rural wage-earners (the socialist UGT land workers union had 451,000 members in 1933, 40% of its total membership, for example). In Russia at the time of the revolution of 1917, agriculture mostly consisted of small farms on which peasant families worked mainly for their own subsistence, bartering or selling their surplus.

Therefore the Spanish Revolution cannot be dismissed as a product a of pre-industrial society. The urban collectivisations occurred predominately in the most heavily industrialised part of Spain and indicate that anarchist ideas are applicable to modern societies Indeed, comforting Marxist myths aside, the CNT organised most of the unionised urban working class and, internally, agricultural workers were a minority of its membership (by 1936, the CNT was making inroads in Madrid, previously a socialist stronghold while the UGT main area of growth in the 1930s was with, ironically, rural workers). The revolution in Spain was the work (mostly) of rural and urban wage labourers (joined with poor peasants) fighting a well developed capitalist system.

In summary, then, the anarchist revolution in Spain has many lessons for revolutionaries in developed capitalist countries and cannot be dismissed as a product of industrial backwardness. The main strength lay of the anarchist movement was in urban areas and, unsurprisingly, the social revolution took place in both the most heavily industrialised areas as well as on the land.

[knithacker]

An exhibition in South Street Seaport fills a former warehouse with fiber art and makes its old machinery, including a 12-foot wheel, part of the show.

[konguindia]

Starter motor components for non-automotive applications OR automotive applications

Automotive & Non Automotive

[justforbooks]

Rosita Missoni

Co-founder of the eponymous Italian fashion label celebrated for its colourful textiles and zigzag knitwear

Rosita Missoni, who has died aged 93, came out of the historic heartland of Italian textiles in northern Lombardy, and though she travelled worldwide for decades and the Missoni fashion and decor brand became famous globally, she remained devoted to her native terroir. All the artistic, artisanal, and ever-inventive technological skills that sustained the company’s success over 70 years were as much part of the locality as its mountains and lakes.

The other company founder, her husband, Ottavio (Tai) Missoni, was originally from the shores of the Adriatic, but was working in knits, and on marriage migrated to her territory. Theirs was a union of complementary talents – Tai was an artist of great colour gifts who choreographed how yarns should be fed into which machine to knit what pattern, while she shaped the firm’s overall fashion direction and uses of the output.

Rosita’s grandmother and mother had been commanding powers in their family factory, Torrani and Jelmini, established in 1921 in the town of Golasecca, specialising in embroidered fine lingerie, and machine-knit accessories, especially shawls.

Rosita experimented with scraps from babyhood, always aware of the interplay of colour, cloth, technology and fashion. In 1953, the newly married Missonis set up their own small machine-knitwear workshop, Maglificio Jolly, in nearby Gallarate. This was part of a postwar Italian movement that put together centuries-old knowledge of materials with sophisticated machinery developments (originally funded by American Marshall Plan money to revive European industry) and a new preference for informal, ready-to-wear clothes.

At first their few machines could manage only three-colour-stripe garments for other labels. By 1955, a Milan boutique stocked Maglificio Jolly; in 1958, Milan’s grand department store La Rinascente bought a collection of stripes of many colours, labelled “Missoni”. Tai and Rosita’s pattern repertoire expanded with each new machine from horizontal stripes to vertical, tartans to jacquard repeats.

The signature chevrons arrived in 1962 when they discovered an update of the more-than-century-old Raschel machines: Rosita remembered how her grandparents had used similar to knit silky shawls echoing antique flamestitch embroidery, the kind of shawls, she said, “you would throw over a lampshade”. Bolder Missoni versions were suited to the craze for geometrical pattern early in the 1960s, and Missoni was enthusiastically promoted by Anna Piaggi of Italian Vogue and Diana Vreeland in US.

By 1967, the Missonis had outlets in New York and Paris, and their own boutique in Milan; they presented collections in clever shows in interesting spaces – a theatre, a swimming pool – around the city. They helped shove the focus of Italian fashion from crusty Florence and snooty Rome to artisan Milan, where it remains.

The next decade brought the Missoni’s best years. First came an art deco revival – thanks to Rosita’s memories, the Missoni deco designs were affectionate but not pastiche. Then fashion hankered for handmade craftwork, mostly knitted goods, and welcomed Missoni machine-knits because of their related aesthetic heritage.

And then, as more people flew internationally and observed the ways other cultures dressed, designers such as Kenzo Takada and Bill Gibb experimented with outfits assembled from knitted, printed, embroidered and woven textiles, with geometric and floral patterns, all worn at once.

The Missonis could supply everything. Rosita regularly went on collecting trips to places where clothes, ceramics and furniture were still happily handmade, or rose early in cities across Europe to truffle for flea market finds. She wanted Missoni design to be part of a worldscape of decoration, and she hated waste – the appeal of knitting was that it wasted less yarn than cut and sewn cloth. She reclaimed workshop scraps for patchwork and rugs for their home. In 1978, the Missonis showed their collection at their quarter-century retrospective in the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York. Their work was at home there.

Born in Golasecca, Rosita was the daughter of Diamante and Angelo Jelmini, who both worked for the family firm; she had two brothers, Alberto and Giampiero. Besides her factory-floor education, she had been sent away to school on the Ligurian coast, for her health, and then to London in 1948 to learn English, supervised by Swiss nuns.

The sisters took their students to Wembley Stadium to witness track events in the summer Olympics, and there Rosita spotted handsome Tai, a decade older, competing in the Italian hurdles and relay team. They eventually arranged a proper meeting by the Eros statue in Piccadilly. Back home in Italy, Tai, who was designing knitted tracksuits – he later made the Italian uniforms for the 1952 Olympics – courted her. Their families approved, and the pair married in 1953.

Rosita and Tai decided in their first, late 60s, flush of success that they were artisan producers and wanted to stay as such, with a full life right beside their joint work. They commissioned from the architect Enrico Buzzi a factory and nearby home with a view of the Alps in Sumirago, under 10km from Golasecca, among gardens that grew produce and plumped hens to be cooked for their children, Luca, Vittorio and Angela.

All three grew up to work in the firm. Luca became menswear designer, Vittorio the marketer, and Angela, after adventures elsewhere, took over from her parents as head of design in 1996.

That freed Rosita, who felt she had nothing more to contribute to fashion (although her own magpie style stayed imaginative to the end), to be creative director of the Missoni home line, which maintained a steady customer appeal while the clothes had periods out of – the 80s – and in – the 2000s – favour in fashion.

Her decor ideas drew on her lifetime collecting, and the personal pleasure she and Tai had in the constant making of things for their Sumirago home.

Tai died in 2013, not long after Vittorio was killed in a plane crash. Rosita is survived by Luca and Angela (who passed a senior design role to her daughter, Margherita), and by eight more grandchildren and 10 great-grandchildren, and by Alberto.

🔔 Rosita Jelmini Missoni, designer, born 20 November 1931; died 1 January 2025

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[stcries]

OKAY I'M WRITING IT FINALLY.

here's my headcanons for viktor's childhood, because it's free real estate and since canon hasn't given us a lot of information, i'm making shit up here.

if you want more information on topics not discussed, look here, here, and here.

( tw for child abuse, death, and more. read at your own discretion.)

viktor was born to his mother, elysia, and father, garrick, in the undercity. it was hardly a place for anyone to live, let alone a child to be born into, but such is the way of the world. zaun is cruel, with workers slaving hours away, just to barely make ends meet, to barely make enough to keep their families fed at the end of the day. garrick wasn't sold on the idea of children, yet stuck around begrudgingly when their child was born. yet, as a few months went by, and they began to see the way viktor struggled with his movement? garrick simply left. they were struggling to get by already as it stood, so having to work his ass off to care for a disabled child? he simply didn't want to do it. so, in the dead of night, he simply ditched elysia, leaving a barely year old viktor solely in her care.

this only made elysia much more bitter. she began to view her child as nothing more than an inconvenience, especially when she started to feel the financial strain that came with him growing up. not only did she have to provide the bare necessities of food, bedding, clothes and more, but she had to assist with his mobility supports, which was near impossible. necessities weren't always guaranteed unfortunately. so in turn, elysia began to see her son as a burden, seeing only the man who had ditched her whenever she looked into his eyes. she wouldn't physically abuse viktor, but she would emotionally. when her son showed interest in inventing, she wouldn't encourage it, simply stating "the world wouldn't care for his creations", that "you think those will change the world? fat chance." and much more alike. so, viktor relied on himself for many things. creating his first cane from scraps found in rivenes, reading on whatever books he could get his hands on, educating himself whenever and on whatever he could.

yet, viktor had someone of who he could go to in moments to turmoil and strife. his aunt, elysia's sister younger, selene. she ran a small store on the outskirts of the undercity, specializing in textiles and other small machinery and inventions she could tinker with in her free time. she was a creative person, no doubt, creating gizmos out of whatever she could find. and this, is where viktor felt most at home. whenever he and his mother got into an argument, he would seek comfort in her. selene was more so a mother to him than elysia ever could be, their bond was unmistakable. so what if other's found selene to be a little eccentric? to viktor, she was the coolest, most interesting person in the world. she encouraged his creativity, offered him spare parts for his own inventions whenever she found them, gave him food whenever he went hungry, and much more.

one day however, in his late teens, viktor had a huge argument with his mother, which led him to storming from her residence, never looking back. he once again, sought solace in selene. however, she had a surprise for him; an academy uniform, how she'd managed to get her hands on one, he had no idea. but with such an opportunity before his very eyes, in the undercity, where one had to seize these moments without hesitation, viktor accepted the gift wholeheartedly. this is how he managed to sneak into piltover's academy in the first place, wearing the uniform and simply showing up one day. the time he couldn't spend in piltover, or at school, he'd be spending with his aunt, who cared for him until he'd saved enough money to move to piltover. they kept in touch via writing for many years more, with the occasional visits every now and then.

things changed when viktor started working with jayce on hextech however. he became so fixated on this newfound work and discovery, that he and selene grew apart, simply not finding the time to write nor visit her. this continued for a few years, and one day, viktor received some saddening news. his aunt had passed away in an unfortunate accident, a collapse in her store, and she wasn't able to make it out in time. the guilt, of knowing that he should have been there, used their time more wisely, it ate him up inside. having the one person who cared for him at his lowest, perish so suddenly, and then him not returning the favour to be there when she needed him most? it was gut wrenching.

a few weeks later, viktor did end up visiting the site of the collapse to pay his respects. in the undercity, death was so normalized, nobody batted an eye when a loved one perished, whereas piltover held extravagant funerals whenever someone passed. it simply wasn't fair. but even if selene was gone, viktor would never forget the kindness she showed him all those years, she was the reason he ended up pursuing his dreams in the first place. and for that, he would make sure that the people of the undercity received the support and care they needed, through hextech, if not for what he wished he had as a child, then for her, for everybody who was suffering.

[thugisa]

I NEED ADVICE!

This is my third pass at this character and this is where I’m at so far!

In case you didn’t see my previous posts, I’m writing a comic based in post-apocalyptic Peru. It’ll have major elements of the Inca empire mixed with modern elements but also more cyberpunk elements.

I know it’s a lot but I’m convinced it’ll create something unique and really interesting.

The man below will be the leader of the last surviving peoples and father of one of the main characters!

Keep in mind that their society isn’t struggling, they’re thriving. The nuclear explosion happened years prior and they’ve already rebuilt while taking inspiration from the Incan empire to run things.

So this man is their Sapa Inca, or their King. He’s meant to represent traditionalism but also the control over machinery. As he believes cybernetics and hardware are merely tools for people to use.

Just thought I should give a bit more of a backstory!

With this pass of the design I added far more details and cybernetics to him but I’m really more sure if it’s too much?

Someone said his face looked too busy and I do see that but I think I’ve been staring at it for too long.

Also, all of the textiles and patterns I’ve drawn are really just placeholders as I can only do so small with my markers and the comic will 100% be done digitally, so I’ll have far better control and fully plan on either finding or creating specific brushes for all the patterning.

Most circles in his design will actually be glowing stones that’ll shift in hue depending on the tone of the scene he’s in.

There’s some parts I don’t like about his design like his boot and I’m not fully sold on the design of the cybernetics as I’ve seen some more sleeker designs that I might use instead. But I’m really not sure.

If anyone has any advice or ideas or even critiques them I’d love to hear them!

Being culturally accurate is also extremely important to me, so if anyone who is more versed in that department has any advice or criticisms then please let me know.

Especially if anything is offensive.

@andeanbeauties

@thebeardedladyofthelake

@batmeringue

Sorry for the tagging but you all commented on the last part and I thought you might want to see the next one! There was also others I wanted to tag but for some reason tumblr wasn’t letting me! So I’m so sorry for that!!

[sci-fi-world-build]

Fundamentally Human

I think there are some things that are fundamentally human. They have been part of who we are for long enough that they have changed us and we have changed them.

The spectrum of human reactions to a new phenomenon produces a bell curve. Some people love the new thing, some people hate the new thing. Most people are meh about it.

But some of segment of those reactions on that bell curve lead to more or better survival.

If you love your horses, you'll pay more attention to them and take better care of them and they will be healthier for longer and you'll be able to take care of your land and food production. So after a few generations of exposure to the new thing, the bell curve shifts towards love because more of those people survive every generation.

I think a lot of things have fundamentally shaped humans and human behavior. The love of caring for green things growing in the ground. Dogs. Cooking. Making textiles. Letters. Trains. Complex machinery.

But the thing needs to exist alongside of humans for long enough to make a lasting impact. Most modern humans have no exposure to farming but the love of green things growing persists in house plants and gardens.

I don't think computers will make the cut. I don't think they will exist in any recognizable form for long enough before they evolve into something else to make a lasting impact. But the parts of them that existed before computers will persist afterwards; the love of complex abstractions and blinking lights.

So when a human is lost in the modern world, they should expose themselves to one of the things that would have helped their ancestors survive to unlock that hidden, intrinsic, love that comes from nowhere and makes no sense.

Hobbies are important.