Oktoberfest ride operator hands out free shorts to combat 32,000 upskirting videos

The Teufelsrad, or Devil's Wheel, sits at the heart of Munich's Oktoberfest like any other carnival ride—a spinning platform that accelerates until gravity and momentum fling riders outward and onto the ground. It is one of the festival's oldest attractions. It is also, in recent years, become the focal point of a sprawling operation to film women without their knowledge or consent.

At least 32,000 videos have surfaced online showing women on the ride, many wearing traditional dirndl dresses. The physics of the Teufelsrad—the way it spins faster and faster, the way bodies lose their grip and tumble—creates a predictable moment: skirts and dresses fly upward, exposing underwear. Some of these videos have been watched millions of times. One woman, according to German broadcaster BR, earned €9,000 from a single clip. The videos often show women in dirndls with their underwear visible. Others have been digitally manipulated to make the women appear naked. BR's investigation traced the operation to a group of professional YouTubers from Ukraine and several people from Bavaria.

Under German law, filming under someone's skirt carries a prison sentence of up to two years. But the law has gaps. Josephine Ballon, head of Hate Aid, a German nonprofit supporting victims of digital violence, explained that the statute applies specifically to the act of filming under a skirt—not to situations where a skirt simply flies up and someone photographs what becomes visible. New legislation is in the works, but it has not yet passed. Ballon also flagged an emerging threat: camera glasses and other devices that could make the practice harder to detect and easier to execute.

Elisabeth Polaczy, who operates the Teufelsrad, has taken a direct approach. For the past three years, she has handed out free cycling shorts to women and girls wearing dresses. This year alone, she distributed more than 100 pairs. She is 80 years old. She told the BBC that providing the shorts costs her money but gives her peace of mind. "I want to do everything I can to make people feel secure," she said. The ride's tent displays warning signs and police posters in German and English. But Polaczy acknowledged the limits of her reach: in a crowded festival, it is impossible to monitor every person holding a smartphone.

Bavarian police have escalated their response. Since 2025, they have run a poster campaign at Oktoberfest warning visitors about upskirting. This year, they arrested a 45-year-old Swiss man allegedly caught using his phone to film under a German woman's dirndl. Last year there were 10 arrests for upskirting at the festival; in 2024, there were seven. Some waitresses working at this year's festival have begun wearing cycling shorts beneath their dirndls as a precaution.

Munich authorities are also tightening rules for influencers and content creators who profit from filming at Oktoberfest. The city has banned live streaming from the festival and now requires anyone who wants to film there to obtain a permit for a fee. Hundreds of permits have been issued this year to influencers earning money through product placements and sponsorships. Ballon argued that the responsibility extends beyond law enforcement: people who upload intimate images should face consequences, as should the platforms that host them. The gap between what the law currently covers and what actually happens remains wide, and the technology available to perpetrators continues to evolve faster than the rules designed to stop them.