At Least My Personal Hell Has Fictional Men

Gück is more practical advice; writing does need to have a definitive direction, and relying on the reader to respond to their heartstrings being plucked is not enough. In fact, for a critique like this, I would expect the answer to just be "the point is X, and the prose style I'm using is Y", to which Gück (if he is any good as a teacher) would give direction to help your vision come to life.

Not only was I not freezing anymore, I was not sweating and overheating either. The horrible sensory nightmare of winter clothes disappeared.

In particular, I bought a pair of wool pants. They were a thrifted pair of fancy dress pants like you would wear at an important office job, and they were easily the most comfortable pair of winter-appropriate pants i'd ever worn. I wore them Every Single Day.

From that point on I realized a lot of my clothes were making me feel bad, and the common thread was polyester. Especially polyester blends.

It's a trap because the polyester clothes are the ones that always feel sooooo silky soft when they are in the store, whereas cotton, linen and wool can feel comparatively rough and scratchy. But when actually wearing them for hours throughout the day, it's the natural fibers that feel more comfortable.

Maybe the secret to sensory comfort is not about the presence of softness, but the absence of overloading sensations. Or maybe the sensory stress and agony is not triggered by texture of the fabric, but by how it breathes and regulates temperature.

Then there's the problem of clothing life span: polyester blends, no matter how soft they seem at first, become rough and scratchy and covered in hard, itchy pills after wearing them 10 or 20 times, whether or not they have been tumble-dried or even washed at all. (I tested it!) Linen and cotton become softer and more comfy the more you wear them, polyester but ESPECIALLY polyester blends become a constant stressor. Polyester blend t-shirts I used to love for their softness now feel bristly and irritating.

Alpaca- my all time favorite. It is both warmer and lighter than wool, and if you have allergic reactions to wool, as I do, this is a great substitute. Alpaca socks are so great.

Cotton- the common fabric. Good for shirts, underthings, socks, pants, you name it. Good at wicking moisture and letting skin breathe, but can also be woven into warmer items such as sweaters. Good all around fabric. Can be strong and used for heavy duty clothing as well as delicate clothes.

Linen- the original warm weather fabric. The more it is washed, the softer it gets. Fabulous in the heat. Use it for bed sheets in the summer and you will never be hot in bed again. It can be used to make shirts, pants, shorts, and underthings.

Silk- great for warm and cool weather. Cool in the heat, warm in the cold, and beautiful no matter what. Can be made as a washable fabric, but usually hand wash or dry clean. Will wear like iron. If you treat it right, you can have silk for 20 years or more. Gloves, socks, underthings, shirts, pants, dresses, jackets, you name it.

Hemp- less well known but a great fabric. Resists mold like you would not believe! Used to make sails for sailing ships, as well as ropes during the age of sail. It was stronger than cotton when wet and would last longer due to the no molding thing. Less water intensive to grow than cotton, with many of the same properties of both linen and cotton. Can be used to make bed sheets, bath towels, shirts, underthings, pants, socks, pretty much anything.

Cashmere- Super luxurious! It is the shed hair of the Cashmere and pashmina goats. Usually made into sweaters, scarves, hats, gloves , and shawls. Super warm and soft. Hand wash or dry clean.

Angora- Also super luxurious. The shed fur of the angora rabbit. Can be used to make sweaters, hats, gloves, shawls, socks, and shawls. Warm, soft, and fluffy.

Mohair- The fur/hair from angora or mohair goats. Used to make sweaters, socks, gloves, hats, scarves, and shawls. Soft and warm.

There are also natural blends. These include (but are not limited to, and are not a complete list): cotton/wool, cotton/linen, cotton/silk, linen/silk, wool/silk, alpaca/wool, cashmere/wool, mohair/wool, etc.

Other natural fibers can include camel, yak, and other animal hair that is shed or clipped and then spun into yarn. Some are more available in certain areas of the world than others. I did not include bamboo due to the massive amount of chemical processing that it takes to extract the fibers. I also did not include lotus silk, byssus silk (sea silk), or any other experimental animal silk (such as the golden orb weaver spider silk) that has been made/created.

Natural fibers cost more to harvest, process, spin, and weave. They can be more difficult to color evenly, because like any natural material they have flaws and variations. This makes them more expensive to work with, which makes the clothing more expensive to produce and sell. But the items produced will last longer (theoretically), will feel better against the skin, and will be better for you in the long run for both you and the planet than clothing yourself in plastic. Microplastics will rub off on your skin, washing away in the washing machines and getting into the water supply. As the fabrics break down, they will become not only rougher against the skin, but also more difficult to mend and patch, limiting their wear life. But because they are plastics, they won't decompose and break down, continuing to pollute the environment unless they can be recycled.

Natural fabrics, in comparison, will become softer over time. They can be repaired more easily as they get holes or tears because the fabric will not have pieces break off like plastic will. It can be easily recycled, and will eventually decompose (which is why archaeologists rarely find clothing and textiles at dig sites), causing little to no damage to the environment. Rarely will a person be allergic to a natural fabric (WOOL! Argh!!!), and when they are, there is usually a protein, emollient, or fabric composition which can be a factor and can (usually) be mitigated, unlike with a synthetic fiber.

Don't get me wrong, synthetic fibers have their place and they have become very useful for certain things. But, we live in a time of fast fashion and high consumerism fueled by synthetic fabrics and exploited labor. Being conscientious of what your clothing is made of, what natural fabrics can do, how long they can last, and why and when you should wear them is a good way to start cutting down on waste while helping your body feel better. And you may find that by limiting the amount of synthetic materials you put on or near your body, that certain things might start to clear up (acne, rashes, etc.).

Bast fibers like linen and hemp usually have a fair number of slubs and are usually woven for durability, because lightweight knits tend to unravel near the slubs just around the same time that the wear level starts to get Perfect.

If you're running through the racks and find a nice hand, remember that synthetics tend to absorb water poorly. Holding the fabric for just a moment and then rubbing the fingers together usually tells me if the moisture was absorbed, or if my hands are still sticky. Fabric softener and dry cleaning can fool me sometimes.

Same as the above, synthetics tend to reflect heat. If a fabric feels soft to the hand, hold onto it a moment. Silk and wool warm up slowly, but synthetics feel "warm" almost immediately. Plant fibers also warm pretty quickly in the hand, but will still absorb water.

Silk and wool are HEAVY on the thread level. A tightly woven silk jacket is way heavier than a poly or nylon one of similar thread gauge.

And although your assessments are largely excellent, pyroteknich, I have a few nits to pick:

Cotton gets WET and holds 36x its own weight in water, compared to ~6x for bast fibers and a little more for wool and silk. When it's wet, the water clogs the gaps in the clothes and prevents airflow. I mention this because I live in a humid subtropical area and sweat basically doesn't evaporate. Cotton means a swampy underside, or all-over-side if you're working hard enough or get caught in the rain. A notable exception to this is very loose and billowy clothing like gauzy skirts. I generally avoid cotton entirely because of its water-holding capacity.

Silk does wear like iron unless it gets wet, then it's very weak and abrades easily. Normal activities in my area will cause sweat to build up and that moisture will shred silks. Again, the solution is loose and billowy, and being choosy about which fabrics during particular times of year. I tend toward bast fibers in the warmer months and silks in the cooler ones. Reconstituted cellulose fibers like "bamboo", ramie, rayon, and so on have similarly poor durability when wet. Silk also stains very easily and HATES being in the sun to dry or for too long period, as UV light breaks it down, just something to be aware of.

And also unsolicited, I would like to share a few tips I've picked up for keeping natural fibers in good shape so they can get to that delightful broken-in level. We have very, very soft water in my area, so your mileage may vary.

If not handwashing, a top-loading washer, filled up completely with cold water, is pretty close to handwashing, on delicate settings.

Most of the time, "dry clean only" is a bunch of nonsense, except with suits or dresses made with water-soluble interfacing. People washed these pieces for how many centuries before dry cleaning existed? Yeah. Unfortunately, I don't know an easy way to find out if interfacings are water-soluble, except to give the piece a wash. I've restored dozens of stinky natural-fiber pieces that were discarded because the original owner's dry cleaning didn't remove the water-soluble odors, and I "restored" them just by giving them a nice wash. Sometimes a pair of suit pants or a jacket will start poking out the plastic interfacing after the wash, so yknow. Caveat washor.

Even if handwashing, strongly alkaline detergents or high heat will cause protein-based fibers like wools and silks to denature and degrade rapidly during the abrasion of washing. Vinegar will help, and mild curd soaps are best. If only washing wools, a little liquid lanolin mixed well with hot water and curd soap prior to adding to the wash water will help restore the fibers, making the garment more water-repellent, stronger, and more durable. Small amounts of detergents can be used to boost the efficacy of the wash if there is a lot of oil in the laundry soils.

Inversely, plant fibers prefer hot water and can withstand alkaline detergents well, making washing soda and borax viable additions, but hot water will often cause stains to set. I like to help remove the alkalines from the fabric by using vinegar in the rinse. Machine drying, even on "air dry" settings, will still cause static buildup in the fibers, making them slightly water-repellent and for myself, an extremely unpleasant sensory experience. I try to line-dry everything, which is difficult when showers and storms are unpredictable and frequent, and the humidity is 70%+ most days during the hottest part of the day. Still worth it, and indoor line-dry is an option.

Wools and silks are magnets for carpet beetles and clothes moths. When I'm storing clothes for the season, I wash them, gently lanolize the wools, make sure they're 100% dry, then heat up an oven with a baking stone to 200F (90C), line a metal sheet pan with parchment paper, cut the oven, and then leave the clothes in the oven for 30min to kill any eggs. Then I wrap them tightly with plastic bags and put them in plastic bins for storage, and I've never had a problem with insects since. I got the idea from bedbug treatments.

The avoidance of the puddle would be precisely the kind of superb detail that, say, Tolstoy might flourish; War and Peace has an execution scene very close in spirit to Orwell’s essay, and it may well be that Orwell basically cribbed the detail from Tolstoy. In War and Peace, Pierre witnesses a man being executed by the French, and notices that, just before death, the man adjusts the blindfold at the back of his head, because it is uncomfortably tight. The avoidance of the puddle, the fiddling with the blindfold—these are what might be called irrelevant or superfluous details. They are not explicable; in fiction, they exist to denote precisely the inexplicable. This is one of the “effects” of realism, of “realistic” style. 

But Orwell’s essay, assuming it records an actual occurrence, shows us that such fictional effects are not merely conventionally irrelevant, or formally arbitrary, but have something to tell us about the irrelevance of reality itself (…) There was no logical reason for the condemned man to avoid the puddle. It was pure remembered habit. Life, then, will always contain an inevitable surplus, a margin of the gratuitous, a realm in which there is always more than we need: more things, more impressions, more memories, more habits, more words, more happiness, more unhappiness. 

I ask my students every week to write 10 observations of the actual world. It’s very hard for them.

Ms. Tippett:

Really?

Ms. Howe:

They really find it hard.

Ms. Tippett:

What do you mean? What is the assignment? 10 observations of their actual world?

Ms. Howe:

Just tell me what you saw this morning like in two lines. I saw a water glass on a brown tablecloth, and the light came through it in three places. No metaphor. And to resist metaphor is very difficult because you have to actually endure the thing itself, which hurts us for some reason.

Ms. Tippett:

It does.

Ms. Howe:

It hurts us.

Ms. Tippett:

You naming something.

Ms. Howe:

We want to say, “It was like this; it was like that.” We want to look away. And to be with a glass of water or to be with anything — and then they say, “Well, there’s nothing important enough.” And that’s whole thing. It’s the point.

Ms. Howe:

It’s the this, right?

Ms. Howe:

Right, the this, whatever. And then they say, “Oh, I saw a lot of people who really want” — and, “No, no, no. No abstractions, no interpretations.” But then this amazing thing happens, Krista. The fourth week or so, they come in and clinkety, clank, clank, clank, onto the table pours all this stuff. And it so thrilling. I mean, it is thrilling. Everybody can feel it. Everyone is just like, “Wow.” The slice of apple, and then that gleam of the knife, and the sound of the trashcan closing, and the maple tree outside, and the blue jay. I mean, it almost comes clanking into the room. And it’s just amazing.

Ms. Tippett:

In some basic level, what they’ve done is just engage with their senses.

Ms. Howe:

Yeah, and have been present out of their minds and just noticing what’s around them, which is — we don’t do. And again, not to compare it to anything. They’re not allowed. And that’s very hard for them. And then on the fifth or sixth week, I say, “OK, use metaphors.” And they don’t want to. They don’t know how. They’re like, “Why would I? Why would I compare that to anything when it’s itself?” Exactly. Good question.

So then you think, why the necessity of a metaphor? Why do you have to use a metaphor now? Not just to do it to avoid it, but to do it to make it more there. And it’s very interesting.

are they gone? okay. you are a knight and i am your childhood friend but the key point is we've been in love for years and years and years and every time you come back from a quest i'm there.

and every time, i wipe the blood from your face and bandage your wounds, and you catch my hand and press it harder over the cloth, and it hurts you but it feels good, too, because it's my hand that's doing it, and because of this quiet unspoken thing between us that will never be because of the oaths you've made to others.

and then one day an enemy of yours tracks me down and i am your one weakness, and you came back to the quiet village and i am not there, and the houses are burning, and you raze every inch of ground between us

but it's a trap (obviously it's a trap) and you are caught and i am there, and your enemy vows to destroy your world as you have destroyed his (and this is how i find out that you are not the good person i thought you were) (and how i find out that i don't care, i'll have you anyway, if we survive this thing)

and then while you are restrained your enemy hurts me just to see you scream, and i won't beg even though nothing has ever hurt this bad, and you are raging against your chains, with this look in your eye that's fear, not rage, because for all your vows i am the only thing you love.

and then you get free and you kill him and you toss his body aside like it doesn't even matter (because it doesn't, only i matter, i am the only thing in the world) and you undo my bindings with shaking hands and you say damn my oaths, i will slay a thousand kings if you ask it of me, and i smile finally with blood on my teeth and you kiss me