Threads of Heritage: The Mongolian ‘Deel’ in Modern Fashion

As the Paris Olympics kicked off in July 2024, Team Mongolia immediately won over the crowds at the opening ceremony for their athletes’ striking uniforms. Designed by Ulaanbaatar-based label Michel & Amazonka, the elegant garments were inspired by the traditional Mongolian deel (pronounced ‘dell’). Adorned with intricate embroidery and accessorized with pouch bags and a sash belt, the traditional styled kit earned global recognition for their striking beauty, showcasing Mongolia’s unique fashion identity on the world stage. While the uniforms were modernized, they remained a tribute to the deel — a timeless symbol of Mongolian cultural heritage.

In contrast to the rapid churn of today’s fast fashion, the deel has remained virtually unchanged for centuries. Worn by Mongolia’s nomadic peoples for daily life and special occasions, the deel is a full or mid-length robe with long sleeves, a high neck, and buttons on the right shoulder. Dating back to the third century, the deel is both a symbol of resilience and an enduring testament to Mongolia’s cultural continuity in an ever-changing world.

This series celebrates the deel in all its forms, capturing its beauty and diversity as worn across Mongolia — from the vast Gobi Desert to the remote Siberian taiga. The deel is more than just a garment; it connects Mongolia’s people to their past while remaining a living expression of their cultural identity.

During my visits to Mongolia over the past few years, I’ve been captivated by the enduring popularity and striking elegance of the country’s national clothing. The deel, with its vibrant colors and intricate designs, seamlessly adapts to the physical demands of a nomadic herding lifestyle. These garments add vivid bursts of color to the muted tones of the Mongolian steppe, creating a striking visual contrast. Even in the most remote and isolated locations—reachable only after days of travel by vehicle or horseback—I’ve been warmly welcomed by families dressed in beautiful deels. Their pride in their culture and traditional way of life is palpable, reflected not only in their attire but also in their warm and gracious hospitality.

On a visit to Mongolia in June 2024, I was eager to delve deeper into the craft behind these iconic garments and to understand why the deel continues to thrive, particularly among rural communities.

As we turn off the first paved road we’ve seen in the past two weeks, we brace ourselves for the washing-machine-like sensation of being thrashed around in the back of a swaying Purgon van, a Soviet-designed vehicle popular in the Mongolian countryside for its basic yet seemingly indestructible construction. The dirt track snakes into the sweeping green hills, winding around the base of each knoll. With every turn, we lose our bearings. Eventually, the van sputters to a halt atop a plateau, offering a 360-degree view of the quintessential Mongolian landscape.

The treeless, undulating expanse of pale green is punctuated by sporadic clusters of small, white gers, the traditional homes of Mongolian herders. Large herds of horses and other livestock graze freely across the surrounding hills, an integral part of the nomadic way of life.

A short but bumpy drive from the town of Kharkhorin in Övörkhangai Province, central Mongolia, we are on a mission to find a particular nomadic family – and, more specifically, a Mongolian woman known for her skill as a deel seamstress.

From our vantage point, our driver and guide, Manal, scans the horizon to get his bearings before my husband and I clamber back into the Purgon and roll on into the hills. This is no ordinary ‘shopping’ trip, I think to myself. I daren’t imagine what thoughts are running through my husband’s head…

After countless detours and many proverbial knocks on the wrong ger, we are eventually directed by a nearby neighbor (several miles away) to our destination; a quaint wooden cabin on a sloping hillside flanked by two gers and a small partially covered fenced area for livestock.

We are greeted warmly by Bayarsaikhan, a 50-year-old mother of two, carrying a bucket of fresh, still frothy goat’s milk, together with several members of her family, all dressed in characteristically colourful Mongolian deels.

Inside their carefully decorated home, we are welcomed with bowls of delicious milk tea and the customary exchange of a snuff bottle – a small, smooth bottle made of precious stone with a red cap containing powdered tobacco. The snuff bottle is a common cultural practice in Mongolia and a gesture of respect and friendship. The head of the family opens a small snuff bottle, usually wrapped in a delicate silk pouch, and passes it to visitors to, well, ‘snuff’.

After tea, Bayarsaikhan lays out a selection of different coloured deels that’s she’s made. Demonstrating how it’s done, she places a rectangular piece of dark green fabric on the ground and marks a precisely measured outline with a bar of soap. This skillful practice is passed down from mother to daughter and Bayarsaikhan tells me a normal unadorned deel takes around three days to make. A deel for special occasions with elaborate designs and adornments can take two months to sew.

Being a semi-nomadic herder, Bayarsaikhan has an exceptionally busy lifestyle with many daily tasks from milking sheep and goats to making cheese and yoghurt, to helping take care of the family’s several hundred animals. She subsequently has little time for sewing deels and is limited to making the garments only for herself and her family.

As a favor to our mutual friend Bolormaa, who sometimes buys goat milk from the family, Bayarsaikhan generously agrees to sew a deel for me for a modest price. Without a tape measure in sight, she expertly sizes me from shoulder to toe using only her hand – an age-old method for measuring in ‘hands’. It will take some time to make, she says, since the family will be moving with their animals to their summer location in a few days.

Dating back to the Hunnu Empire in the third century, the deel is recognized by UNESCO as an intrinsic part of Mongolian heritage. Despite external influences and globalized trends, the traditional attire of Mongolia has endured throughout the centuries, and remains largely unchanged.

Since the 2000s, it has seen a resurgence and is being worn as a symbol of national pride, epitomizing the enduring sense of cultural identity by people of all ages and backgrounds.

“Over the past few years, more and more people are wearing the deel as daily wear,” says Bolormaa, a Mongolian woman originally from the Gobi Desert who owns a popular guest house and tour company in Ulaanbaatar called Gobi Girl. “Before I married Manal, I never wore a deel, I preferred city clothes,” she adds, “but after we got married, I preferred to wear our national clothes.”

Its simple yet practical design is not only aesthetically eye-catching, it also serves the needs of herders in the harsh environment they live in. Ideal for riding horses, yaks, camels, and reindeer, it provides full body protection from the elements and extreme weather conditions. Some deels are made with large, folded sleeves that can be opened out to cover hands in winter while riding horses or motorcycles, or even serve as a glove for carrying a hot pan. The top part of the deel can be used as a large pocket for safely stowing small items on long journeys.

Each season and occasion has its own deel made from different materials, Bolormaa tells me. Cotton is the most common fabric for everyday wear, silk for special occasions and ceremonies, and winter deels are lined with lambs wool and skin. Around 30 pieces of lambskin are required for a woman’s deel says Bayarsaikhan, 45 for a man’s, adding that the skins are taken from lambs that died naturally – they are not killed for their hides.

Each of the country’s ethnic groups has their own style and design of deel, Bolormaa explains. Often made from coloured fabric imported from countries such as China and Japan, each colour has its own meaning: blue symbolizes the sky, yellow the sun.

Naadam Festival

One of the country’s biggest national holidays, Naadam is a traditional festival celebrated in towns and villages across Mongolia each summer. This vibrant festival involves three events known as the ‘three games of men’: wrestling, archery and horse racing. Despite its name, nowadays women and girls take part in the archery and horse racing, but only men compete in the wrestling.

For the festivities, Mongolian men, women and children wear their best – and sometimes matching – deels, often made or bought especially for the occasion.

A common feature of traditional Mongolian attire is a small pouch attached the belt or waist band of the deel. In Mongolian tradition, it’s customary for each person to carry their own cup and chop sticks to use when visiting nomadic families.

A Deel Pageantry

Back in Ulaanbaatar, Bolormaa shows me her selection of beautiful deels, some of which she’s had for 20 years, gifted by her mother-in-law on her wedding day.

The most striking of her deels is sewn from a striking gold silk and is intricately decorated with elaborate detailing, embroidered with patterns and adorned with pearl-like balls. Twenty-one-year-old Zula, a student who’s working at Bolormaa’s guest house for the summer, proudly models the spectacular garment. “I had this outfit designed and made for me last year for the Naadam festival in our village in the Gobi Desert,” Bolormaa tells me. It took two months to make, she adds, and carried a worthy but hefty price tag.

“It’s one of a kind,” she says proudly.