Mia Bladon
Inside Wimbledon, the audience waits with bated breath as an excited but tense atmosphere fills the tennis court.
Russian tennis legend Elena Rybakina is warming-up, ready to take on Tunisian finalist Ons Jabeur in the ladies’ singles final.
These world-renowned tennis prodigies are all too familiar with the adrenaline rush that accompanies a face-off with an opponent of similar might and prestige.
To a competitive sportsperson in a prestigious finals match, it’s all about proving your impeccable mastery of the sport in a show of spectacular skill. It’s about claiming victory over your opponent.
However, the Wimbledon women’s finalists aren’t the only ones gearing up to face off with an opponent. Just outside the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club, a gathering of women, in ivory and red, are gearing up for something rather different – they are campaigning for tennis equality.
This is a confrontation with an unjust and dehumanising dress code that leaves menstruating tennis players plagued with fears of humiliation under the inescapable gaze of thousands of eyes.
The scenes at Wimbledon
At the gates of the most prestigious tennis tournament in the world, women dressed in white shirts and vests, paired with crimson shorts, display placards with ‘Wanted: Ball In Our Court’ and ‘About Bloody Time’ inscribed upon them. This is a symbolic protest, one clearly fighting for a passionate cause very close to the hearts of the women at the threshold of the Wimbledon tennis ground.
“We want Wimbledon to address the white dress code that doesn’t take into consideration female athletes on their periods,” one of the women declares to reporters from The Guardian.
The history of women’s tennis uniforms
Robert Lake, author of A Social History of Tennis in Britain, tells the BBC that white was originally chosen for tennis uniforms because of the colour’s ability to hide sweat stains, and because it represented purity and societal prestige.
For women in particular, Lake describes how women were expected to dress “modestly” in “the late-Victorian period”, and explains how tennis uniforms evolved to prioritise “fashion”, then “utility” and “comfort”, from “the interwar period” to the mid-twentieth century.
Lake then notes how women’s tennis uniforms of the modern-day era have shifted in style to foreground aesthetics and sexual appeal.
Why the amended women’s dress code advances gender equality
I believe that, while a dress code achieves smartness, consistency and uniformity, it should primarily be compassionate, considering the needs of all individuals that it concerns. It should be flexible if needed, to accommodate all individuals equally.
Prior to the dress code change in 2023, Wimbledon’s dress requirements for women did not achieve this. Not permitting women to wear coloured undershorts during menstruation, it was neither compassionate nor flexible. And it goes without saying that the physical and emotional discomfort experienced by female tennis players as a consequence of this unjustly punitive dress code set women miles behind men concerning gender equality in tennis.
“Feelings of comfort and confidence are a basic necessity, not a luxury, in sport.”
However, now women are allowed to wear dark shorts beneath their white tennis skirts, women are now on an equal playing field to men (pun intended). If male tennis players are allowed to feel comfortable and confident in their uniforms, women should be afforded this basic right to physical and emotional comfort too. These feelings of comfort and confidence are a basic necessity, not a luxury, in sport.
The increased flexibility of Wimbledon’s dress code amendment brings tennis in line with other sports – women in hockey are now permitted to choose between wearing skirts, skorts or shorts on the pitch, as a result of another dress code change implemented in 2023, this time by the International Hockey Federation.
Women perform at their best when they feel comfortable… and confident
As a woman in sport, the amendment made to the Wimbledon dress code resonates deeply with me.
I am a dancer and I perform in shows regularly. Our choreographers often give the option to wear shorts underneath our skirts for performances. Many of us female dancers do opt to wear these shorts underneath our costumes. We feel less ‘exposed’ and, therefore, more comfortable and confident onstage. Needless to say, feeling both comfortable and confident when dancing underneath theatre spotlights, and in front of a large audience, ensures we all perform at our best.
The same applies to tennis too. Regardless of whether you’re dancing in a packed theatre, or hitting tennis balls back and forth across a net in a prestigious tournament, the last things you need on your mind are worries about what you’re wearing, especially when you’re performing or playing sports in front of an audience. As a dancer, if you feel uncomfortable with your costume in any way, you feel a certain tension and stiffness in your body as you emerge from the wings of the theatre and take up your starting position onstage, with spotlights illuminating your costume for all in the theatre to see. You know that your performance is about to be hindered just because of what you’re wearing.
Therefore, I can only imagine the unrelenting sense of discomfort that a menstruating tennis player, forced to dress head-to-toe in white, must have felt before the amendment to the dress code in 2023. Prior to the change, tennis players were even prohibited from wearing off-white and cream colours.
Put yourself in their shoes…
Imagine that you’re a menstruating female tennis player about to step out onto the most famous tennis court in the world. You are scrutinised by the thousands and thousands of eyes of the live audience, and potentially millions more eyes watching the match from the comfort of their homes. As you take your place on the court, with an all-too-familiar aching in your lower stomach, you silently pray that your sanitary pad or tampon will manage to soak up all of your menstrual fluid. You were sternly told that you weren’t permitted to wear dark shorts underneath your ivory-white tennis skirt, even though you expressed your fears about leakage and potential embarrassment before the literal eyes of the world.
Throughout the match, your performance is hindered because your perfectly valid worries about staining your white tennis uniform were blatantly dismissed by an unforgiving, outdated and downright ignorant dress code with a flagrant inconsideration for the needs of menstruating women.
Can other sports follow in tennis’ footsteps?
I can only hope that the world of ballet follows in the progressive wake of Wimbledon regarding updates to outdated and cruelly dismissive dress codes. Despite my choreographers allowing me to wear dark shorts underneath my dance skirts if I feel more comfortable that way, some dancers unfortunately aren’t so lucky.
“Imagine taking a ballet exam as an adolescent dancer…”
Young ballerinas are often prohibited from wearing underwear beneath their leotards. Some ballet schools also prohibit dancers from wearing wrap skirts or shorts over their leotards. Imagine taking a ballet exam as an adolescent dancer with her menarche. Imagine the striking contrast between being forced to appear graceful and beautiful at the barre, while, deep inside, you’re wrestling with a visceral sense of dread and discomfort as your menstrual cramps intensify, and you fear bleeding through to the salmon-pink pallor of your ballet tights.
It appears Wimbledon’s progressive dress code change is paving the way for other sports to expand the flexibility and forgiveness of their dress codes, particularly for menstruating women. Let’s hope ballet takes a leaf out of tennis’s book in this sense. Otherwise, you could say the punishing, unforgiving dress code of the ballet world is truly out for blood.
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