“Steampunk creates an alter ego and it enables people to do things they wouldn’t normally do in their own egos,” says Helen, who along with Iain and a coterie of other Steampunk enthusiasts known as the League of Victorian Imagineers, instigated the largest and longest-running Steampunk event in the Southern Hemisphere, which has inspired the formation of an additional 22 other Steampunk chapters around the country, from Thames to Invercargill.

“We’ve seen the most remarkable transformations of people, their self-development and their achievements over the years,” says Helen. “People who have grown from the shiest people to the most flamboyant.”

So it’s helped with their self-esteam? I joke.

“Yes, I believe that is a very apt term for what we do.”

The four-day Steampunk Festival is a highlight on the international Steampunk calendar with visitors ascending upon Ōamaru from as far as Germany, the US, Malaysia and Australia. Locally, the majority seem to come from Christchurch, including Carl Yates, aka Sir Gideon Steamcrank, of the Cog and Compass Society, who has been coming to Ōamaru’s Steampunk Festival with wife Yvonne for the past three years, and is one of the organisers of Chrictchurch’s Fantasizer’s Festival in Riccarton Park, the Garden City’s own Steampunk extravaganza. His mission, according to the Cog and Compass Society website, is “to create a vibrant community filled with boundless curiosity and camaraderie, where the imaginative spirit stretches to infinity. Together, we celebrate the ingenuity, creativity and inventiveness of past and futuristic possibilities.”

“Most people make their own, which is a real labour of love,” she says. “For me, I op-shop. I like to find things second-hand and collect items that might work with what I already own. I’ve lived in Ōamaru all my life and I find it just quirky. Anything goes, you can take on a persona — it’s an escape. The clothing feels quite regal.”

In some ways, Steampunk’s popularity in New Zealand could be seen as a simple middle finger to Jandals and stubbies. If you needed even further convincing, the premise behind director Yorgos Lanthimos’s Poor Things starring Emma Stone, addresses much of the liberation that comes from Steampunk’s quest to loosen the corsetry of Victorian repression.“New Zealanders are conservative,” says Carl. “Steampunk allows a person who is conservative to create a version of themselves that isn’t vulnerable.”

So, Sir Gideon Steamcrank is his version of what Sasha Fierce is to Beyonce?

“Quite right,” says Carl. “You can talk to people you’ve never talked to before. You have confidence and you’re actually very safe. You’re not going to get ridiculed because you’re among people you can say hello to without judgment. It’s empowering. Because it’s all about originality. There’s no hard or fast way on how you do Steampunk. It’s how you interpret the Victorian imagery of moving into the future.”

But is it moving into the future? While Iain and Helen have pulled back their involvement in recent years, handing much of the organisation to the Steampunk NZ Trust, the growth of the festival is something they are proud of.

“We thought our first festival was going to be a total disaster, with only 12 tickets sold. To have a sell-out event in this day and age is remarkable,” says Iain. “It’s gone from strength to strength. Obviously, Covid was devastating for a lot of events, and ours was no different, but after that period had finished, we thought it was going to take a little while before the ball was rolling again. But it just hit the ground running. People just picked up where they left off.”

Ōamaru’s Victorian heritage buildings made from its famous local Ōamaru stone provide the perfect backdrop for the event but do require more consideration around the week’s programming — which this year included a fashion parade and teapot racing held inside the old Scottish Hall on Tyne St. “Ōamaru is limited to a certain number of venues and capacity,” says Iain, “so we have to be mindful of that. It’s something we can’t control.”

The fashion has also evolved since its debut in 2009, ironically, with the advancement of technology. A berry juice extractor strapped to the back of Sharon Gaynor aka Florence Brewer — the supreme winner of the Steampunk Fashion Parade — was printed on a 3D printing machine.

“We usually leave the interpretation of Steampunk up to people,” says Iain, who is also an award-winning jeweller. “I tend think about an everyday object and how it would look in the Steampunk era. How would it be powered? An iPhone, for example, would probably be made of dark stained wood and leather and brass trim.”

But while Iain might be something of a Steampunk purist, like most sub-cultures, there should be room to evolve. “I hope the next generation can carry that on and are inspired by what they see.”

For Sharon’s daughter, Jamie, who represents another new generation voice, Steampunk is not only something she can do with her mother, but is an opportunity to help redefine what it means for the future.

“I think Steampunk is really cool for acknowledging a lot of different histories,” says Jamie, whose fashion-show entry this year consisted of a onesie layered underneath a crinoline that housed a terrarium in acknowledgment of the festival’s theme this year: Botanical Mechanical.

“There’s no reason for it to be solely English-inspired. There are influences from Native Americans and from China. You can time travel between different places too and it allows you to reimagine Steampunk.”

But is Steampunk classist? A Victorian upper-crust gentleman’s folly?

“It’s usually quite formal,” says Iain. “You don’t tend to get too many street sweepers in Steampunk.”

The formality may, however, have confused some visitors. One couple walked past dressed like Bonnie and Clyde. Another man walked past in a straw boater and a rowing blazer as if heading out to drink Pimms on the terrace. Other outfits though veered toward the questionable.

One first-timer who had come dressed as an impoverished prostitute, members of Victorian society problematically glamorised on film and TV as nameless footnotes in the autobiography of Jack the Ripper. Another couple strode down the festival’s parade wearing colonial hunting attire complete with pith helmets and a briefcase adorned with a makeshift gun.