In this business, you meet a lot of colorful and sometimes down-right freaky characters come in and out of these doors. As someone who interacts with the humanity on mostly an obersvation level, I have recently determined that your guitar strap is a lot like your hand-shake: it says a lot about you. Here are just some of the few examples I've collected since starting work here:
Plain Solid Colors:
You are a musician. You’re here to play your dang music and that’s that. Nothin’ fancy. No gimmicks. Maybe if you’re feeling particularly spunky, you’ll opt for the bright red strap instead of the black strap, but of course, black matches everything and you can’t be bothered to think about your stuff matching your other stuff. Rock must be made. That show must go on. Guitar straps? Pssh. If you could just get away from duct-taping your axe to your torso so you wouldn’t have to be bothered with the strap pin and all that arbitrary nonsense, you’d do so. But that would hurt, and pain is a distraction from the RAWK.
You like huntin’? You like campin’? You most likely enjoy a good IPA while cleaning your guns on the porch with the safety off? And what’s that? You play guitar! Or maybe, in the case of the pink camo, you’re either a sassy homemaker with a wild hair for the music in your sassy soul, or you are very, very secure in your masculinity. That Nickleback song you’ve been practicing between trips to Cabella’s isn’t gonna play sittin’ down. You need a camo strap!
The American Flag: you voted Republican for every election you’ve been eligible for. You know every Kenny Chesney and Brad Paisely song ever released in the U.S., and boy you love spreadin’ the freedom via your Les Paul-laden strap.
The British Union Jack: You’re either not British, but secretly wish you were OR you are British and you not-so-secretly wish you weren’t.
The Canadian Flag: You’re asking for a fight the next time you gig at a bar.
The Floral Patterns:
You’re either female, just learning guitar, or the worship leader at your church has asked you to “tone down your look” a little bit.
The Freaky Patterns: Zombies, Cannibals, and Man-Eating Clowns
You’re a fifteen-year-old boy with the twenty-bucks your mom gave you this weekend burning a hole in your pocket. Put down your energy drinks and pick-up the pointiest guitar off the wall to test your new strap.
The Tye-dye Strap:
You haven’t played guitar since the 70’s and you just recently cashed in your 401K; fate is telling you to revisit your peace-lovin’ glory days and get back into your music. You’ll be smoking on some water in no time.
The Pot Strap:
You’re in your sophomore year of college and you need to find a new passive-aggressive way to piss your unenlightened parents off while you continue to pursue your philosophy degree. Chances are you’ve owned something with Che Guevara’s face on it in the last year or so. Aw, too bad we don’t have HIM on a strap.
The Yin-yang Strap:
You’re a fifteen-year-old girl with the twenty-bucks your mom gave you this weekend burning a hole in your yoga-pants tucked into your ugg boots. You own a guitar. And the strap is cute. Why not?
The Leather Strap:
You do absolutely nothing but play acoustic guitar OR you do absolutely nothing except ride a Harley OR you wish you did absolutely nothing but ride a Harley OR the home-made pelt you took off that deer your ran over last week isn’t drying the way you hoped it would so you’re giving up and buying a strap for $100. That way at least you can pass it off like you made it yourself ;)
The Fake Leather Strap:
Duuuuude…that’s awesome!…aw man, it’s a hundred bucks. No, dude…just get this one: it still looks pretty tight. Dude, yes.
The Ironic Ones: Police Tape, Hazardous Waste, Anarchist Symbols
You’re angry. You’re caffeinated. You’re male. You own a lot of break-away pants. You only know Blink-182 songs. You bought your guitar off Craigslist and you don’t remember how to play anything outside of a Drop D tuning.
The Porno/Pin-Up Strap:
Your current relationship status is just too easy to speculate on.
The Draw-string from your Hoodie that Unraveled or a Shoelace:
You’re probably one of the best guitar players out there and your facial hair is probably equally impressive. Life is an adventure in flip-flops, thumbing rides down to California for the winter. You haven’t gone by your actual first-name in years and have opted for the nickname you were once awkwardly given by some drunk guy at a bar once: something like “Butters” or “Jiffy P”. You keep on trucking, dream-liver.
The KISS Strap:
Just…get outta my store.