My Millennial Funeral Will Be Mournful AF
I’m not #dead yet but I’m ready to be the first afterlife influencer
Please arrange a wake, but call it a “woke.”
Don’t use a hearse to transport my body. Place me in an Uber, where I belong.
Hold my funeral on a Thursday, so the #TBT pics on display are noticeably on brand.
Photos of me used around the venue must be selfies with more than 200 Insta likes, or why even bother?
The memorial should not take place in a church but at my favorite rooftop bar — the one with frosé and that one hot bartender who can’t remember my name.
After any prayer, please shout “YOLO!” instead of “Amen.”
Anything you post — and you should post — must include the hashtag #SheLiterallyCantEvenAnymore, followed by the crying emoji 😭. (Still tag me in everything!)
At the service, reserve the front row for my family; the second row for my closest friends; and the third row for all the Tinder men who went down on me. Everyone else, please make a reservation on OpenTable.
While the funeral theme should be “all the feels,” the woke theme should just be “low-key grief.”
The dress code is day-drinking chic meets smart-casual mourning.
I’d like a rose-gold casket with the phrase “As I Slay Dying” written across the front.
No matter how I died, make sure there’s an open casket so it’s easier for my friends to pose me for a Boomerang.
If Mercury is not in retrograde, technically I should still be alive.
Slather my head and neck in all my remaining expensive face serums so they don’t go to waste.
Hire a makeup artist to do a YouTube tutorial of my mortuary makeover.
Mold all of my T.J. Maxx candles into one large candle to burn during the event.
Attendees must read their favorite tweets I wrote in the last three years, or risk being literally ghosted by me.
Please organize a raffle to see who inherits my Netflix, Hulu, HBO, Amazon, and Showtime passwords. When a winner is chosen, hand them a sheet of paper that just says “LOL” because no one should be enjoying anything right now!!!!!
As part of the service, my married BFFs should ceremoniously divvy up and take ownership of my various dating app accounts so they can continue to “swipe for fun” and “live vicariously” through me.
Brunch will be served but attendees are not allowed to partake if they haven’t been completely extra in their crying.
I’ll be having major FOMO during the event, so — while my life should be celebrated and glorified — please don’t go over the top putting the “fun” in “funeral” or the “lit” in “mortality.”
Play Beyoncé on repeat until I am lowered into the ground, then make sure there are speakers in the dirt.
Do everything you can to make my funeral go 100% viral so I can become an afterlife influencer.
On my gravestone, just write “It me.”
Get my iPhone battery down to 0% so it dies in tandem.
Bury me with my dead houseplants for aesthetic.