In 1949, a 26-year-old American tennis player called Gertrude ‘‘ Gussie’’ Moran qualified for Wimbledon for the first time in her career. To mark the occasion, she asked the era’s most renowned designer of tennis dresses and longtime tournament ambassador, Teddy Tinling, to make her a bespoke outfit . The dress had to abide by Wimbledon’s all-white dress code, as enforced by the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club. But that’s pretty much where tradition ended. Moran’s dress was cut above the knee, to allow for greater movement on the court. For many spectators that was outrageous enough, but it was Moran’s silk underwear with two inches of lace that really scandalised British high society.
It was an era before television, and photographers had chosen to lie on the ground behind Moran, hoping to capture pictures of her underwear as she served. The published images provoked an extraordinary backlash. Wimbledon also banned short dresses and the precursor tournament to the US Open prohibited lace underwear and revealing necklines. Moran never wore the dress again, but she could never shake off her reputation as ‘‘ Gorgeous Gussie’’ , the woman who shocked the tennis world.
In a sign of how even the most staid traditions can shift over time, in modern tournaments tennis dresses cut above the knee aren’t just allowed, they’re ubiquitous. But Wimbledon’s all-white rule remains, and it’s back in the spotlight after Australian Nick Kyrgios was pulled up for daring to wear red sneakers and a red hat after the conclusion of his fourth round match.
Rules governing how much, or how little, skin an athlete can show, and what colour their underwear is, seem deeply bizarre in 2022, but they’re in line with the history of Wimbledon and its traditions. The reason the all-white dress code was introduced was to avoid unsightly sweat patches on coloured clothes. It’s a concept that fits within the conservative Victorian social norms of the era in which Wimbledon was first played, but it’s unclear why so many feel wedded to retaining it now.
‘‘ Tradition’’ sounds appealing until you interrogate the political and social context it actually stems from, what values those enforcing it are trying to retain, and how it’s impossible to separate out fashion from the broader issues around gender and class. The ‘‘ tradition’ ’ argument also doesn’t really stack up considering the other Victorian-era rules that have been abandoned in recent years.
For decades the official Wimbledon championship board only listed women winners by their husband’s name, even if they had since separated or divorced. Maintaining some kind of dress code gives Wimbledon a distinctness that acknowledges its history, similar to all white Test cricket uniforms. But enforcing a policy around what shoes a player can wear once they finish their match can seem about more finding excuses to punish athletes than creating a particular fashion culture.
Source The Sydney Morning Herald
