I do believe it could be called real yarn.
It's curious - I like to measure progress in things like narrowing a range of movement; shaving unnecessary seconds off the execution of a technique; understanding why each thing happens and how improving one will improve the other. . . but spinning defies those standards. I'm starting to think that improvement in spinning just sort of . . . happens. I can see, yes, that I'm starting to learn the approximate amount of overtwist I want in a single, but I'll be damned if I can explain how I think I know when it's just right. Likewise with pulling out the same amount of yarn with every drafting motion, with knowing just how much to twist during plying . . . the things that feel right often are. Some shadowy, cobwebbed corner of my brain is immensely satisfied by this.
Too bad knitting isn't the same. The neckline hem is almost done on my basketweave shell:
Which is all well and good, except, um:
I somehow completely forgot to drop one of the cable-flanking stitches. 10 nearly 300-stitch rows of hem will need to be pulled out, the shoulder picked open, and the neck shaping ripped to free it. Gah!