Amidst the strawberry cream and the occasional British drizzle, a stark, unwavering rule continues to loom over the pristine grass courts of Wimbledon—players must wear white. This sartorial directive, often seen as a hallmark of tradition, traces its origins back to the 19th century, when the tournament first began.
The historical roots of Wimbledon's dress code, intriguingly, are intertwined with both practicality and social dynamics. Initially set in place in the Victorian era, the preference for white was primarily dictated by a desire to mask sweat stains, which were considered unsightly. In an age where decorum was paramount, maintaining a clean and elegant appearance on the court was crucial. White garments, with their sweat-hiding properties, were ideal.
Kevin Jones, a senior curator at the Fashion Institute of Design & Merchandising (FIDM) museum in Los Angeles, underscores that the adherence to white also reflected an elitist undertone. “It’s completely elitist because white clothes are difficult to maintain,” explains Jones. The meticulous upkeep required for whites—particularly made from materials like cotton and linen that crease easily—meant that only the more affluent could adhere to such sartorial rigor, subtly reinforcing social hierarchies of the time.
Over the decades, the 'tennis whites' have not only remained a Wimbledon staple but have also become a broader cultural symbol of the sport. Despite the stringent rules, the attire has seen subtle shifts, especially as players and the broader society have challenged conventions. Naomi Osaka's bow to the all-white mandate in Wimbledon 2024, for instance, included dark-colored shorts—a recent concession to address menstrual concerns. Osaka's ensemble remained predominantly white, yet embodied the changing dialogue around dress codes and inclusivity.
Such evolutions have been sporadic at best, often spurred by controversial incidents. Roger Federer's orange-soled sneakers in 2013 led to an outright ban on brightly colored accents, illustrating the tournament's resistance to change. Nonetheless, these instances also sparked conversations about the relevance and flexibility of Wimbledon's sartorial traditions.
Fashion and tennis, it appears, have always had a complex relationship. As tennis gained popularity among the upper classes in the 1800s, it naturally influenced and was influenced by prevailing fashion trends. Women’s tennis attire, in particular, evolved from restrictive Victorian dresses to more functional and stylish outfits. Pioneers like Suzanne Lenglen—who sported a calf-length skirt and a headscarf—began to push the boundaries of what was deemed acceptable on the court, merging practical needs with a flair for the dramatic.
Modern tennis stars have continued this tradition of challenging norms. The Williams sisters, for instance, have frequently made headlines with their bold fashion choices. Serena Williams’ black compression catsuit at the 2018 French Open was more than a fashion statement; it was a response to her need for better circulation post-pregnancy. While the French Open curtailed such choices by implementing stricter dress codes, the Women's Tennis Association later amended its rules to allow leggings without skirts, underscoring a shift towards more player-friendly regulations.
In contrast, Wimbledon's dress code remains an outlier, steadfast in its rigidity. Heather Watson, a British tennis player, voiced her appreciation for the rule change in 2023 allowing dark undershorts, highlighting the often overlooked anxieties female athletes face. “When Wimbledon announced that about the under-shorts I was so happy because it makes such a big difference,” Watson told Sky. She went on to discuss the relief of not having to manipulate her menstrual cycle through medication just to comply with dress codes, particularly when the stakes are high and performance on the court is paramount.
The consistency in Wimbledon's dress code even led to periods of contention with players like Andre Agassi, who famously boycotted the tournament in the late 1980s due to its stringent requirements. Agassi’s boycott, spanning from 1988 to 1990, underscored a broader discontent among some athletes who saw the dress code as anachronistic. Yet, for the powers that be at Wimbledon, tradition reigns supreme. Ben Rothenberg, a sports journalist, asserts that such strict adherence to tradition contributes significantly to Wimbledon's unique charm and brand identity.
The economic implications of dress codes also cannot be ignored. For sportswear brands that sponsor top players, Wimbledon's all-white rule presents both a challenge and an opportunity. The need for brand visibility must be balanced with the tournament's requirements, leading to innovative—and sometimes controversial—marketing strategies. Federer's orange-soled shoes, for example, were quickly relabeled by Nike as “One Match Wonders” in a savvy marketing ploy following their ban.
This balancing act between tradition and modernity, between maintaining exclusivity and embracing inclusivity, is what continues to make Wimbledon's dress code a topic of discussion every year. While it serves as a reminder of tennis's genteel origins, it also prompts critical conversations about equity, representation, and the evolving needs of athletes in a contemporary setting.
As the tournament progresses each year with its crisp whites and green courts, one is left to ponder whether Wimbledon's dress code will ever fully embrace the colorful plurality of the 21st century or if it will remain a bastion of an era gone by. For now, at least, the image of tennis players donning immaculate whites remains a ceremonial nod to the sport’s illustrious past and an ongoing debate about its future.
