Read Time 5 Minutes
A completely scientific and not-at-all exaggerated examination of what your guitar preference reveals about who you truly are as a person.
FENDER STRATOCASTER
What it is: The Swiss Army knife of guitars. Three single-coil pickups, a sleek double-cutaway body, and that iconic headstock. The guitar that launched a thousand solos and made Jimi Hendrix set his instrument on fire (because playing it conventionally wasn’t challenging enough).
What it says about you: You’re the human equivalent of a golden retriever — friendly, adaptable, and eager to please. You genuinely believe “versatility” is a personality trait. You own at least three different styles of the same blue jeans and have strong opinions about proper laundry techniques. When ordering at restaurants, you frequently say, “I’ll have what they’re having” while pointing at a complete stranger’s plate.
You’re the type who starts sentences with “Actually…” before correcting someone’s minor factual error about Stratocaster pickup configurations. You can and will demonstrate the “quack” sound of the second position on your pickup selector to anyone who stands still long enough, whether they asked about it or not.
Your dating profile lists “long walks on the beach” and “trying new restaurants” as unique personality traits. Your friends call you reliable, which you simultaneously appreciate and resent.
GIBSON LES PAUL
What it is: The heavyweight champion (literally, your chiropractor thanks you). Mahogany body, maple top, dual humbuckers, and enough sustain to outlast your mid-life crisis.
What it says about you: You’re the type who believes “they don’t make ’em like they used to.” You have passionate opinions about the “correct” way to make coffee and own a vinyl collection that you refer to as “curated,” not “collected.” You’ve used the phrase “warm tone” more times than you’ve told your parents you love them.
You’re secretly proud of the back problems your guitar has given you because suffering for your art makes you feel authentic. You believe Jimmy Page’s 1959 Les Paul possesses mystical properties and would mortgage your house for a chance to touch it.
Your wardrobe consists of exclusively black t-shirts, each subtly different but indistinguishable to the untrained eye. You’ve never met a blues scale you didn’t like, and you firmly believe that most songs would be improved by a 12-minute guitar solo.
When someone asks what you do for a living, you tell them your job title followed by “…but what I really am is a guitarist.”
JACKSON V
What it is: A pointy, aggressive-looking instrument designed to terrify parents and small woodland creatures. Often wielded by headbangers with hair longer than the guitar’s warranty.
What it says about you: You’ve never met a volume knob you couldn’t turn to 11. Your ideal breakfast contains at least 300mg of caffeine, and you’ve seriously considered getting lightning bolts tattooed on your forearms. Your neighbors know your name but wish they didn’t.
You own at least three items of clothing with skulls on them, and you secretly practice your “rock stance” in front of the mirror when nobody’s watching. You believe that if a guitar doesn’t look like it could be used as a weapon in a post-apocalyptic scenario, it’s not worth playing.
Your dating history includes at least one person your parents absolutely hated. You’ve definitely air-guitared in public, possibly while making intense eye contact with a stranger. Your definition of “formal attire” is your cleanest band t-shirt and jeans without visible rips.
When someone mentions they like music, you immediately ask if they’ve heard of bands whose names sound like medical conditions. You’ve been kicked out of at least one retail establishment for testing the acoustics.
ACOUSTIC DREADNOUGHT
What it is: The booming workhorse of acoustic guitars. Big, loud, and not at all subtle – the guitar equivalent of the friend who doesn’t understand “inside voice.”
What it says about you: You own multiple flannel shirts that aren’t ironic. You’ve considered moving to a cabin in the woods at least three times in the past year. You use words like “authentic” and “organic” without a hint of self-awareness.
You believe that amplification is cheating and that real musicians should be heard without technological assistance. You’ve definitely brought your guitar to a party without being asked and launched into “Wonderwall” at the slightest lull in conversation.
You have strong opinions about craft beer and artisanal coffee. You’ve described yourself as “outdoorsy” despite your severe allergies to most plants. You refuse to accept that some songs actually sound better on electric guitars.
Your Instagram is full of photos of your guitar placed strategically in natural settings – on rocks, against trees, or balanced precariously on hiking trails. You’ve written at least one song about a road trip or a failed relationship, possibly both in the same song.
NYLON STRING (CLASSICAL) GUITAR
What it is: The refined, cultured elder statesman of guitars. Wide neck, fan bracing, and strings that feel like they’re made of overcooked pasta.
What it says about you: You drink tea with your pinky extended, unironically. You’ve corrected someone’s pronunciation of “Bartók” at a dinner party. You own at least one item of clothing with elbow patches and believe that slippers are acceptable footwear for any occasion.
You silently judge electric guitarists while pretending to appreciate their “unique artistic expression.” You believe that tablature is for people who can’t be bothered to learn “real” music and have told numerous people that Segovia is “the greatest guitarist they’ve never heard of.”
Your idea of a wild night involves staying up past 10 PM to finish a particularly challenging piece by Fernando Sor. You’ve seriously considered growing out the fingernails on only one hand and have given people lengthy explanations about why when they didn’t ask.
You think metal music would be more appealing if it incorporated more diminished arpeggios. You’ve used the phrase “Well, technically…” to start a sentence more times than you can count.
THE HYBRID PLAYER (OWNS MULTIPLE TYPES)
What it is: The “why choose just one?” approach to guitar playing. Your collection includes everything from a pointy metal axe to a delicate classical instrument.
What it says about you: You have commitment issues and a credit card with a dangerously high limit. Your significant other has seriously questioned your financial priorities. You’ve used the phrase “different tools for different jobs” to justify yet another guitar purchase.
You firmly believe you’re not a hoarder because all your guitars are “essential” and serve “specific tonal purposes” that couldn’t possibly be achieved with the seventeen other guitars you already own. Your Reverb browsing history is more extensive than your work accomplishments.
Your friends describe you as “enthusiastic” in the same tone they might describe a puppy who hasn’t been house-trained yet. You’ve memorized a different song for each of your guitars to demonstrate their “unique qualities” to unsuspecting visitors.
You’ve designated an entire room as your “guitar sanctuary” while sleeping on a mattress on the floor in another room. You genuinely believe you can taste the difference between a maple and rosewood fretboard, and you’ve given TED Talk-length explanations to people who made the mistake of showing mild interest.
Disclaimer: This article was written by someone who owns too many guitars and is absolutely projecting their own issues onto innocent readers. No guitarists were harmed in the making of this article, though several egos may have been bruised.
