I Want A Casket That Hugs My Curves

I’ve always had a passion for fashion. More specifically, a few pieces of high quality clothes that fit well. I’m a real woman with real shape and volume, and I dress to show that off. Flaunt it if you got it, right? That’s why when I die, I want a casket that hugs my curves as well.

 

It makes no sense to me that so many people choose to be buried in cookie-cutter rectangular boxes. Not everybody’s a rectangle, okay? I’m more like a voluptuous pear. Why shouldn’t I expect to get buried in a voluptuous pear-shaped box that honors my beautiful body?

 

Are you listening, funeral industry? One size does not fit all.

 

If you think about it, most coffins are made for a man’s dead body. They have square shoulders, narrow hips, and long, dead legs. Can you imagine how that would look on a real woman? Sure, maybe a super-skinny model built like a praying mantis looks good in one of those boxes, but me? With my curves? No way.

 

Either tailor my coffin or cremate me, but I will not accept the indignity of being buried in some mindless cookie-cutter crate. No thanks!

 

 

My coffin will have intentionality and focus, and be designed with my body in mind. In fact, if you could somehow belt my coffin to give me a waist, that would be great. Also don’t forget to make it one solid color to create a long line from top to bottom. I like charcoal gray or navy, but I’m over black—it washes me out—so don’t even think about it. Then when it’s all set, maybe throw a smart, colorful, coffin-sized blazer around the top of the coffin, to give me some age-appropriate sass. When I vision-board this, I imagine that my coffin is going to look something like a cello case, but bigger and more pear-shaped. If it’s done right, you’ll notice me, not my coffin.

 

I wanna show ‘em what my momma gave me as they bury me next to her in the family plot. Ba-bam, afterlife! Dangerous curves ahead!

 

It’s sad that more people dead people don’t realize that they’re lying there in coffins that just don’t fit them. Nobody even knows what a good fit looks like anymore, aboveground or below (Also, they’re dead, and you stop realizing things when you’re dead). So I’m willing to be the pioneer here. I firmly believe that once you get buried in a coffin that fits you properly, you’ll never go back.

 

Of course, if you want to get buried in a mediocre, mass-produced IKEA coffin that you might have to put together yourself, that’s your deal. My only hope is that you come to believe you’re worth more. Good fit isn’t just for the living. And one day, I’ll be the dying proof of that.

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