From Cocoon ...
The Chinese have been plucking silk worms from the green leaves of the mulberry tree for more than 4,000 years. Each spring, peasants collect the milky-white centipedes, lay them out in bamboo baskets and separate them with fine feather brushes to prevent bruising.
Over a period of several days, the larvae spin cocoons by moving their heads in figure eights while ejecting a continuous stream of silk from two sacs running along the sides of their bodies. The worm farmers then sell these cocoons to companies like the Wujiang Zhen Feng Silk Spinning Mill, which transform the worm pods into outfits to die for.
Wujiang Zhen Feng Silk Spinning Mill -- Nestled inside these fuzzy white cocoons, the silkworms are in the final stages of their metamorphosis into the lovely chrysalis. Joke's on them though, because they won't get a chance to eat through their silk shell to see the light of day.
Raw silk was once woven by hand on wooden looms but today the process is almost entirely automated. The noise is deafening inside the warehouse space where spools of raw silk are twisted, warped and woven into fabric.
Before dying and printing, the silk fabric is first treated with chemicals to increase its absorption of color. In a process called scouring, sheets of silk are hung from bamboo poles and dipped into steaming chemical hot tubs. The treated fabric is then rinsed, dried and threaded on to five-foot rollers.
Two old men haul weighty spools of material up to the sunny third floor of the Wujiang garment workshop. Against the back wall, young men work in pairs, running the length of a 40-foot table as the silk billows behind them.
