For the past week, my guitar journey quietly became a football league table.
Every candidate had a position.
Every new discovery shifted the standings.
Every test changed the hierarchy.
At one point, the table looked something like this:
MIJ Gretsch Duo Jets
Gretsch Roundup
Godin 5th Avenue Night Club
Momose Tochi special run
PRS S2 Mira 594 Matcha Green
and more Gretsches.
The funny thing is this:
none of those guitars was “wrong.”
In fact, some were objectively incredible.
The Momose had artisanal Japanese mystique.
The Gretsches carried smoky pub romance.
The Godin had intimacy and honesty.
The Matcha Green Mira 594 nearly ambushed me emotionally.
But over time, I realised my search was no longer about specifications.
It became about something much simpler:
Which guitar feels like home?
The PRS Reality Check
The turning point came when I nearly bought the PRS S2 Mira 594 Satin in Matcha Green.
On paper, she looked almost perfect for me:
satin finish
compact body
Pattern Thin neck
understated looks
anti-flashy PRS energy
I even added her into my Swee Lee shopping cart.
But instead of blindly buying online, I forced myself to go down and physically test a PRS again.
That trip changed everything.
I tested:
a glossy Mira 594
and a satin CE24 as a neck-feel reference.
And the result?
Underwhelming.
Not bad.
Not poorly made.
Just… emotionally quiet.
The unplugged resonance didn’t speak to me.
The necks didn’t disappear in my hands.
The guitars felt refined, but not alive.
That single visit probably saved me thousands of dollars and months of rationalising.
More importantly, it clarified something:
My hands already know what they want.
Returning to Familiar Roads
After the PRS test, I drifted back toward the guitars that had always lingered in my imagination:
Gretsch Duo Jets
the Momose Tochi
the Godin
and Fender-style instruments.
Then the Carousell market did what the Carousell market sometimes does.
Out of nowhere, the original Fender Haruna Telecaster V1 appeared.
The guitar that escaped me when I was still ignorant.
Before buying my Haruna Telecaster Boost “Spring” last year, I had originally wanted the first Haruna signature model:
traditional Telecaster controls
traditional pickup layout
Dimarzio Twang King and Chopper T
and most importantly, Haruna’s actual regular concert guitar.
But back then?
Impossible to find.
So Spring came into my life instead.
And over time, Spring became fully mine.
I genuinely thought the V1 dream had ended.
Then suddenly:
there she was.
Negotiations and Fate
The seller listed the guitar at S$1999.
I first offered S$1800.
Silence.
Later, from another Carousell account, I offered S$1900.
Instant acceptance.
That already told me the seller simply had a firm internal number.
Interestingly, after bringing the guitar home, I discovered a lacquer crack line near the neck joint. I informed the seller honestly, and to his credit, he immediately refunded me S$100.
So in the end?
The guitar naturally settled at the exact S$1800 price I had originally believed was fair.
Somehow, that felt strangely right.
The MRT Ride Home
There was no cinematic moment.
No dramatic reveal.
No heroic guitar-store lighting.
Just:
a packed MRT train
one hand protecting the gig bag
and the knowledge that the guitar was finally coming home.
Very Singapore.
First Impressions at Home
I was tired that night.
Family time came first.
So I only spent a few quiet minutes with the guitar.
But immediately, several things stood out.
The V1 looked prettier in real life.
Not louder.
Not more luxurious.
Just more balanced and natural.
And physically?
Everything familiar from Spring remained:
same ergonomic comfort
same Fender scale familiarity
same Haruna DNA
But the electronics and personality were completely different.
That mattered.
The Real Test
This afternoon, I plugged Lady straight into my Fender Pro Junior IV.
No complicated chain.
No disguise.
Exactly how a Telecaster should be judged.
And as expected:
that traditional bridge pickup tone arrived immediately.
Dry.
Snappy.
Clear.
Alive.
Then I brought Spring into the comparison.
And something important happened.
Spring did not lose.
Instead, the two Harunas separated naturally into different identities.
Lady
traditional Telecaster directness
classic Fender attack
simplicity
articulation
emotional resolution
Spring
thicker Shawbucker voice
broader tonal density
expanded expressive palette
modern Telecaster evolution
At that moment, the conflict ended.
There was no replacement.
No dethroning.
Both guitars simply belonged.
Naming Her “Lady”
The V1 is now officially named “Lady.”
Haruna’s dachshund is named Lady, and somehow the name fits perfectly.
Not flashy.
Not overdramatic.
Just quietly personal.
The League Table Disappears
And with Lady’s arrival, something else quietly vanished:
The live league table.
There is no longer:
Gretsch vs Momose
PRS vs Godin
boutique vs vintage-inspired
satin vs gloss
That search has ended.
Not because Lady is objectively the greatest guitar.
But because she resolved the question I had really been asking all along:
Which guitar feels like home?
And strangely enough, after all the boutique fantasies and premium temptations, the answer looped all the way back to:
A familiar MIJ Fender Telecaster tied to an artist I genuinely love.
That feels honest.
And honestly?
That feels enough.
Welcome home, Lady, my 2017 Fender Haruna Telecaster!