David Bowie was ahead of his time when he said he would like his death to be as interesting as his life – now, a raft of funeral directors and undertakers are shifting the dial on what the end of life can look like.
The most tangible differences are the products on offer. Choices range from coffins made of weatherbeaten willow, banana leaf and wool to bespoke Scrabble- or piano-themed ones, or a Bauhaus-inflected urn in lapis lazuli-blue. As for methods of transport, coffins are being carried in converted electric Nissans or VW camper vans. Motorcycle hearses are also available.
Demand is increasing at less traditional funeral businesses. Poetic Endings in south London has increased the number of funerals it manages by 82% since 2020 – as well as seeing a broadening of the type of people coming through its doors. At Aura, which aims to redefine funeral planning, there was a tenfold increase in growth in 2023 versus 2022. Natural Endings, which has branches in West Yorkshire and Manchester, opened nearly 20 years ago. Its founder, Rosie Grant, has noticed people putting more time and effort into finding an undertaker in the past few years, rather than simply going to the nearest one.
The insides of these funeral parlours often look different, too. Exit Here, which has opened a second branch in north London, is run by the restaurateur Oliver Peyton and is often mistaken for an art gallery by passersby, while Poetic Endings is “very botanical and very peaceful”, says its founder, Louise Winter. Natural Endings is, according to Grant, “quite modern and comfortable – it’s definitely not that sort of Victorian aesthetic”.
Part of this shift is sustainability driven – as people look to lead greener lives, it makes sense to have greener, biodegradable coffins. Part of it is spurred by an increasingly secular society looking for traditions besides religious ones.
In some ways death and dying now feels like it is being given the wellness treatment; afforded more mindfulness and deliberation, as well as being seen as an opportunity to buy nice objects. But while it makes sense that people who like scented candles and wicker baskets in life will want to take some of that style with them into death, this movement runs much deeper than aesthetics. Beyond trendy typography and beautifully crafted ceramics, there is also a shift in the way people are talking and thinking about death.
In tune with a modern emphasis on mental health, increasingly there is, according to Winter, a recognition particularly among younger people that “grief is welcome – in fact it’s very natural to go through grief”. It is, she says, not natural “to squish [grief] down and pretend it’s not there and say: ‘Death is nothing at all, just have a bottle of wine and smile.’” The funeral is part of that: “If we get it right, I think it avoids all sorts of problems later on.”
Part of the shift is around language, with euphemisms being discarded. For Winter it is about saying the actual words – death, dying, died and dead – but “using them really sensitively and really gently”.
Grant refers to herself as an undertaker – “we don’t call ourselves funeral directors because we feel that’s a bit hierarchical and what we’re really interested in is empowering families”.
“The funeral industry has been under a lot of scrutiny recently,” said Winter, in part referring to allegations about the mishandling of bodies by Legacy Independent Funeral Directors in Hull. She thinks it has led to people “being a bit more savvy, a bit more aware. Not just accepting what they’re told, but asking questions and expecting more from funeral directors.” People do not “necessarily want a Victoriana-style man walking in front of a coffin”.
Much of this less traditional wave is run by women. The industrialisation of death in the UK led to “this patriarchal movement of men in top hats”, says Winter. But “women are really reclaiming their place in taking care of the dead”. In many ways it is a return to past ways of doing things in the UK when the dead were cared for by the community – and much of that was done by women.
Death, rather than being siloed, was once more a part of life and “tended to happen in the home so it was less mysterious”, says Grant. A psychotherapist, she believes it is “really important to be familiar with [death]”. As a modern funeral company, she says, “[we] are trying to demystify death care and funerals in order to make things less scary”.
There is an increasing wealth of death education and services available, from death cafes to doulas, who provide end-of-life support to families. The former Green party MP Caroline Lucas is in training to become one. She said in April that “in the UK and the west in general we are rubbish at dealing with and talking about death”, calling it the “last taboo”. The popularity of living funerals – where people’s lives are celebrated before their deaths – is also on the up. And in the past few years a range of podcasts, from Griefcast to the CNN anchor Anderson Cooper’s All There Is, have provided space for people to listen and think more about death and grief.
Since 2022, the death doula Rebecca Illing has been running a “grief-literate” guesthouse in Portugal, hosting talks and retreats for bereaved families, while Sarah Parker, a death doula in Devon, has been running various events about becoming death-aware. Parker thinks the services of death doulas will increasingly be called upon “as we become more comfortable with the ‘normal’ nature of death, no longer hiding it away, but bringing it back in to the homes of everyday people in the community”.
