Oktoberfest’s uncommon threads

MUNICH – At Oktoberfest, Bavaria’s annual celebration of autumn and beer, new generations of partyers and new arrivals to Germany added their own twists to traditional fashion.

Millions of revelers descended on Munich to soak in the beer tents and carnival rides at the festival, which ended Oct. 5.

Some were locals wearing handmade items sourced from nearby fields and forests and passed down through generations. Some were tourists cosplaying in low-cost clothes they bought online.

Many, especially young people and immigrants, pushed the boundaries of traditional Bavarian “tracht,” which last had a major refresh in the 1970s.

It can take as long as 18 months to receive a pair of handmade lederhosen – the soft leather pants that Bavarian men may pass down father to son – once you’ve ordered them from Michael Krippel’s shop outside Munich. It’s a combination of popularity and craftsmanship: The curing, cutting and stitching procedures he follows have barely changed in 150 years.

But Krippel is open to new trends, like lighter-color leather, and to bold customer requests.

Rahmée Wetterich, a fashion designer, moved to Germany from Cameroon when she was 12. In 2017, she fused those influences. She sewed an African-inspired version of a dirndl, a dress with a full skirt and defined waist that is sometimes topped with an apron, and wore it to a celebration at Munich City Hall.

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to get shot,” she said, smiling. “Will I be hated? I don’t know. Will I be accepted?”

Wetterich need not have worried. Her dirndl, hand-printed in Africa, won a prize for innovation in folk culture. She and her sister Marie Darouiche now run a tailoring shop called Noh Nee. Many of her clients, Wetterich said, have lived abroad and want to mix cultures in their dress.

“They want their tradition, too, but they want to combine it,” she said. “That means they suddenly have two hearts in their chest.”

Some of the new blood in Bavarian fashion prefers strict tradition. At the Lederhosen Lechner shop, in a former farmhouse, Max Lechner, 25, won’t stitch pink thread into his deer-hide pants, which are cured in fish fat and meant to last.

A trendy color is maybe cool for a year or two, he said. “Then what about for the next 100 years?”

Half of his customers opt for classic black leather with green silk.

Lechner says lederhosen should be worn every day. He tells customers not to leave them in the closet in summer.

He doesn’t care what you wear with them – he is personally fond of flannel shirts and bare feet, at least in his shop – as long as you avoid buying cheaply made lederhosen online.

At Oktoberfest, which Lechner enjoys, young revelers adorn their costumes with all kinds of flair.

On a hot day amid the carnival rides, you might spy teens with a migration background pairing lederhosen and soccer jerseys. On colder days, you see hoodies – the classic cotton, but also variations on formal Bavarian jackets.

You see dirndls with chunky boots, high heels and designer handbags, and nearly every sort of hat.

Lechner and Krippel can spot handmade pants from afar, and they can usually tell exactly who stitched them.

The trends endure long after Oktoberfest ends. Bavarians wear tracht while bird hunting, partying or visiting a biergarten.

At the Lorenz Ganter tailor, north of Munich, women sew vests and jackets from Bavarian wool and other local fabrics.

“We have tradition for all days,” said Dieter Ganter, whose grandfather founded the shop 80 years ago.

Customers today are drawn to lighter-weight, brighter fabrics than just traditional green and brown, he said.

Some of his customers, Ganter said, are migrants to Germany, and others are new arrivals to the region. Some save up to buy their first pieces of tracht.

“People want to be a part of Bavaria,” he said. “They like it.”

And they like to make it their own.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.