Hello, HotTakers! It’s your resident sass-dispenser and unofficial arbiter of all things messy, Roger, diving headlong into a story that’s all threads and no needles. Settle in, because this tale, ripped right from the Reddit diary of real-life quandaries, has all the makings of a daytime drama, minus the commercial breaks.
Imagine, if you will, a young man, a trans gentleman of 21 years, navigating the choppy waters of identity and acceptance. Now, toss in the somber occasion of a funeral, specifically his beloved Grandma’s, to really stir the pot. Our protagonist, a well-passing, broad-shouldered example of masculinity, finds himself at the center of a fashion feud that’s less about fabrics and more about family, feelings, and the final farewell.
But oh, it’s not so straightforward. The dearly departed Grandma, bless her, spent her twilight years in the fog of Alzheimer’s, often unable to recognize her grandson, pining instead for the granddaughter of her memories. Before her illness, this Grandma loved playing fairy godmother, gifting our hero with dresses aplenty. However, as time and tides turned, the last present she bestowed upon him was a suit – a gesture of acceptance, or perhaps a slip of memory? We may never truly know.
Cue the funeral preparations, and our man makes an unsurprising choice: to honor his Grandma in the suit she last gifted him, which is not just any suit, but one that could rival a moonless night in its blackness. Enter, stage left, a cousin with the audacity of a soap opera villain, challenging his decision and decreeing that a dress would have been the garment of choice for Granny’s ghostly audience.
Now, dear readers, before you spit your tea, let’s ponder the ludicrousness of expecting a fully transitioned, muscular man to don a dress – an act that would not only defy his identity but also dart well beyond the boundaries of decorum and dive straight into disrespect. Our man stands firm, and frankly, so does Roger.
But drama loves company, and the cousin’s critique raises a ghoulish question: in death, do we dress for the departed’s memory or for the mourning?
It’s here, in this sartorial standoff, that our protagonist’s predicament peels back layers on grief, identity, and the lengths to which we go to honor our loved ones. Wearing the suit isn’t just a matter of personal comfort or gender expression; it’s a nod to the Grandma who embraced his truth, if only fleetingly, in her final years.
So, let’s slice through the tension with the sharpest scissors in the sewing kit, shall we?
**Roger’s Hot Take:** Dear cousin, I’m afraid you’ve mistaken a funeral for a costume ball. Our protagonist isn’t an actor in a period drama, bound by the costume department’s whims. He’s a man, honoring his grandmother in the most authentic way possible – as himself. Funerals, though draped in black, are for the living, a bittersweet gathering to share grief and celebrate a life. The true disrespect? Demanding someone dim their light, smother their identity, or squeeze into an ill-fitting dress to satisfy someone else’s vision of remembrance.
So, in the limelight of judgment, not only is our Reddit hero not the asshole, he’s the beacon of dignity in a sea of misplaced sentiments. To him, I say: wear that suit with pride. Let each thread of it weave together the story of a love that transcends memory, confusion, and painful partings. As for the cousin? Perhaps a subscription to HotTakes might broaden her horizons – or at the very least, offer a masterclass in minding one’s own closets.
And there you have it, folks. Another tale of turmoil to tuck into your cap. Remember, in the grand theater of life, sometimes you have to write your own script, especially when it comes to dressing for the final curtain call. Till next scandal, keep your takes hot and your rebuttals hotter. Ta-ta!
Original story
I, 21M, am a well passing trans man. I’m tall, relatively muscular, short hair and just overall guy-looking. My Grandma passed away recently, and had Alzheimers for quite some time before she died. She often used to not recognise me or ask my mum where [my deadname] was when I was right there. She would sometimes say she’d love to see me again and it was overall painful for the whole family. Before I came out gran used to love picking out dresses for me, and afterwards she moved onto suits.
But when she started forgetting stuff she kept talking about what kind of dresses I like now, what she should get for me, etc. The funeral’s next week and I mentioned that I would probably wear the last suit she got for me which was black and a vest just for extra blackness. My cousin looked at me like I’d just said the most ridiculous thing on the planet and she said, ‘no, gran would have wanted to see you in a dress’ and how I could disrespect her very wishes on such an occasion and what an asshole I am for putting my needs over hers when its her funeral.
I didn’t quite know how to respond to that and luckily I was saved by her kids who started making a mess so she went after them. I frankly, think she’s being fucking ridiculous. I couldn’t pass as a girl if I tried anymore, much less fit into one of my old dresses. I think it would be utterly disrespectful if I showed up in a dress, it would look far too ridiculous/comical for a funeral.
I’m 99.99999999999999% sure I’m not the asshole. I’m genuinely just no longer the build to be in a dress, I’m a grown man, it would be a joke. But just in case I’m missing something, AITA? I don’t want to disrespect gran at the funeral but I really think wearing a dress would be more disrespectful.