Death used to be a quiet thing. You didn't talk about it at dinner. You certainly didn't take pictures of it while you were still healthy. But then a group of seniors in New Zealand started doing something that made the internet collectively do a double-take: they started building their own caskets and posing for photos inside them. These coffin club photos aren't some morbid obsession or a goth subculture gone gray. Honestly, they’re about control.
It started in Rotorua around 2010. Katie Williams, a former hospice nurse, realized that people were dying in expensive, clinical boxes that had zero personality. She gathered some friends in a garage. They had some tools, some plywood, and a lot of tea. They started building "underground rooms" as they called them. And they documented everything.
What These Coffin Club Photos Actually Show
When you see a photo of a woman in her 80s sitting in a glitter-covered coffin with a tutu on, your brain might struggle to process it. We’re conditioned to see death as a tragedy. But in these images, you see something else. You see agency.
One of the most famous shots involves a member of the Kiwi Coffin Club sitting comfortably in a bright red casket lined with leopard print. It’s loud. It’s defiant. The photos capture a community of people who decided that if they have to leave, they’re going to leave in a box that looks like their favorite armchair or a classic car. These aren't just snapshots; they're a middle finger to the multibillion-dollar "death care" industry that often thrives on the vulnerability of grieving families.
The aesthetic of these photos is raw. They aren't polished Instagram shots with perfect lighting. They’re often taken in dusty workshops or community halls. You see sawdust on the floor. You see wrinkled hands holding paintbrushes. You see the transition of an object associated with fear into an object of craft.
Why the Coffin Club Movement Went Viral
Why did we all suddenly care about seniors making boxes? Because the coffin club photos represent a massive shift in how the Baby Boomer generation is approaching the end of life. They did it with rock and roll, and they’re doing it with death too.
The photos provided a visual language for a difficult conversation.
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Basically, it’s hard to talk to your kids about your funeral. It’s awkward. It’s heavy. But showing them a photo of you painting a casket with scenes of your favorite fishing spot? That’s a bridge. It turns a "planning for the end" talk into a "check out my art project" talk.
The Financial Reality
Let's talk numbers because the photos mask a very practical reality. In New Zealand and the US, a traditional funeral can easily clear $10,000. A DIY coffin? You're looking at maybe $300 to $600 in materials.
Many people in the early photos joined because they were on fixed incomes. They didn't want to leave their kids with a massive bill. The "bling" on the coffins—the sequins, the painted landscapes, the sports team logos—is a byproduct of the fact that when you build it yourself, you have money left over to make it personal.
The Psychological Impact of Facing the Box
Psychologists have actually looked into this. There’s something called "Death Positivity." It’s not about wanting to die. It’s about accepting that it’s coming so you can enjoy the "now" better.
When you see the coffin club photos, you're seeing the result of exposure therapy. If you spend every Tuesday morning for six months sanding the wood you'll eventually be buried in, the box loses its power over you. It just becomes furniture.
- Members report lower levels of death anxiety.
- The social isolation that usually hits the elderly is mitigated by the workshop environment.
- The photos serve as a legacy piece for the family before the person is even gone.
One member, interviewed by local New Zealand media, famously said that her coffin was her "ultimate piece of jewelry." She wanted it to sparkle. And it did.
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Misconceptions About the Photos
People think it's a cult. It's not.
People think it's depressing. It's actually incredibly loud and funny.
If you walk into a Coffin Club workshop—whether it's the original in Rotorua or the ones that sprouted up in Katikati or even the UK—you’ll hear more laughter than you’d hear at a typical bingo night. The photos catch the smiles, but they don't always catch the jokes. There’s a lot of "dark" humor. "Does this make my butt look dead?" is a common one.
Another misconception is that these are just "boxes." Many of the coffin club photos show intricate interior work. We're talking about satin linings repurposed from old wedding dresses or pillows stuffed with wool from the family farm. These are deeply personal museums of a life lived.
How to Document Your Own End-of-Life Journey
If you’re looking at these photos and thinking you want to do something similar, you don't necessarily need a wood shop. The "Coffin Club" spirit is about the documentation and the personalization of the inevitable.
Step 1: Start the Visual Dialogue
Don't wait. Take photos of the things that matter to you. If you’re planning a natural burial or a DIY send-off, document the process. It helps your family normalize the idea.
Step 2: The Practicality of Construction
If you are actually going to build a casket, you need to check local regulations. In the US, the FTC’s "Funeral Rule" means funeral homes must accept a coffin you provided yourself without charging an extra fee.
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- Materials: Usually plywood or solid pine.
- Weight capacity: It has to be reinforced properly.
- Dimensions: Standard sizes are usually 24 to 28 inches wide.
Step 3: Capturing the Moment
The best coffin club photos are the ones where the person is doing something "normal" with the coffin. Some people use them as coffee tables or bookshelves while they’re still alive. Imagine having your books on the shelves that will eventually hold you. It sounds intense, but it’s the ultimate way to integrate life and death.
The Global Reach
The movement didn't stay in New Zealand. Photos from clubs in London and various parts of the United States show a similar vibe. In the UK, the "Co-op" has even looked into how this DIY approach affects grieving. The conclusion? People who are involved in the process of preparing for death tend to have a "healthier" grieving process. They aren't shocked by the machinery of the funeral industry because they’ve already dismantled it.
The Future of Death Imagery
We are moving away from the Victorian "memento mori" (photos of the dead) and toward a "memento vivere" (remember to live) style of photography. The coffin club photos are the vanguard of this.
They tell us that even at 90, you have a voice. You have a style. You have a sense of humor.
It’s about making sure that the last thing people see isn't a generic mahogany box that cost as much as a used car, but a reflection of who you actually were. Whether that’s a fan of the All Blacks, a lover of glitter, or someone who just really liked a sturdy piece of New Zealand pine.
The real takeaway from the Coffin Club isn't about the wood or the nails. It’s about the community. It’s about not being alone in a garage, but being with friends, making something that matters.
If you want to explore this for yourself, your first step is looking into "Death Cafes" or local maker spaces that focus on "Green Burials." These are the modern equivalents of the original Rotorua club. You don't have to be a master carpenter to start thinking about how you want your story to end. You just have to be willing to pick up the brush.
Start by making a list of three things that define your personality today. Not your job, not your bank account—your personality. If those three things aren't reflected in your current "end of life" plan, it might be time to start your own version of a club. Take a photo of the process. It’ll be worth more than a thousand words to the people you leave behind.