what's in a name?

i've been a seamstress for a very long time. if you count the Princess Leia costume i made for myself in the 3rd grade, you might say i'm a lifer. in my adult life, it's what i do as my career (in addition to the millinery and occasional knitting commission).

close to where i work is a wonderful quilting shop. now, i've always been partial to all things vintage and they have some of the most wonderful reproduction prints i've ever seen, not to mention a continually rotating stock. it's like the candy store, and it's very difficult for me to walk away without at least a few fat quarters or a half yard of some other piece of prettiness.

on a recent visit, the girl behind the counter asked me, 'so, are you a quilter?'. and i had no idea how to answer. 'umm...well...i've MADE quilts...' but does that make me a quilter? i'm a professional seamstress, so i'm a skilled stitcher but...am i a quilter? 

i got a Kindle for Christmas, and i made a quilted cover for it. i've made quilted potholders and several baby quilts. most recently, i made a quilted crochet hook case. but i still don't know if that makes me a 'quilter'.

ultimately, it got me started thinking about how we identify ourselves. what does it take to qualify as a quilter?  or a knitter, or a singer, or a baker or a tennis player, for that matter? is it skill level? interest? money invested? divine prophecy and the pulling of a sword from a stone? and more so, why are we sometimes elitist about who can use the term? one of the things that has made me reluctant to join a crafting circle of some sort is the experience i've had where i mention that i knit and i'm met with a series of questions that must be answered correctly to satisfy the requirements in the mind of the asker. 'oh, have you tried out harmony needles? been to Rhinebeck? what are your thoughts on cables...?' not to say all crafters are like that, as i've met many who are generous and ready to share their skills. but in some environments there is a bit of a mistrust of 'newbies' that can manifest in condescension and will sadly drive the less confident away. or irritate the experienced and make them decide that the subway is a better place to do their public knitting (though i did once get the hairy eyeball from a guy on the train who was making a complex sock when he saw me working with big needles and chunky yarn. on our third encounter he saw me doing some fair isle knitting and gave me an approving nod. NYC, ladies and gentlemen).

so what is my point? i guess it's this: leave the need to identify who we are as makers of things aside. we create, and we love it. we dabble and we learn. and we should approach anyone who expresses an interest in trying things out with open arms and open minds. all forms of crafting are alive: constantly evolving and changing, updating and becoming relevant to our place in history. holding our crafts too close will smother them. we need to nurture them, and give them life. and embrace being a part of something so much bigger.