What is a jellyfish doing on a tennis court?
The fact that tennis is making headlines beyond the sports page is news in itself. That it manages to displace the omnipresent football coverage on the news for a few days is almost a small secular miracle. And that it's due to both a final victory and an outfit speaks volumes about the unique nature of this sport. In recent days, tennis has achieved exactly that: creating a foothold in the news not only because Carlos Alcaraz won the Australian Open in a high-voltage final, but also because Naomi Osaka entered the court in a jellyfish-inspired outfit. It might seem anecdotal, but it's not.
While fashion is often just background noise in many sports, tennis is a notable exception. Throughout the 20th century, the history of this sport has been marked by moments where clothing spoke less of personal taste and more of social hierarchies, moral codes, and political tensions. And this phenomenon is no accident. Tennis is a sport of sustained attention: from the entrance walk to the final point, the player's body is exposed and observed, interpreted. Although sports brands have largely captured the market, tennis players have found ways to tell us things that go far beyond the scoreboard.
On January 20th, Naomi Osaka entered Rod Laver Arena at the Australian Open as if she were stepping onto the runway, wearing a striking outfit by one of the most spectacular designers on the current scene, London-based Chinese designer Robert Wun, in collaboration with Nike. The garment, made with translucent fabrics and shapes that evoked tentacles, recreated a jellyfish, a nod to a children's story that connects her to her daughter. But the symbolic act didn't end with the outfit. The theatricality of her entrance—complete with a large hat—further enhanced the overall effect. fedora From which emerged a kilometer-long veil and an umbrella—it gave the tennis player an aura of empowerment that possibly left her opponent, the Croatian Antonia Ruzic, disarmed, whom Osaka ended up beating after three sets.
A message in the system
This gesture, far from being an individual eccentricity, is fully in line with the tradition started by the Williams sisters. We cannot forget that tennis is historically a white sport associated with the middle and upper classes, which explains the strong rejection faced by both Serena and Venus Williams. With a clear objective—to become the greatest tennis players of all time—they made clothing a symbol of self-affirmation, resistance, and empowerment. The iconic catsuit The outfit Serena wore at the 2002 US Open showcased a powerful and muscular physique that defied established norms. It was inspired by the Catwoman archetype embodied by African American actress Eartha Kitt in the series. Batman In the 1960s, the uniform was described by many media outlets as "too intimidating." This intimidation exposed the sector's shortcomings, since, far from referring to the opponent, those who felt threatened were the classist—and racial—foundations that still underpin this sport today.
In fact, this isn't the first time Osaka, raised in a low-income environment to a Haitian-American father and a Japanese mother, has used fashion as a means of communication. At the 2020 US Open in Flushing Meadows, she wore seven different masks bearing the names of victims of racial violence, transforming a piece of medical equipment into a gesture of public remembrance. Therefore, far from being an extravagance or a distraction, the Medusa suit fits into a very clear lineage: that of women—especially women of color—who, within tennis, have needed to dress to say what the system prefers not to hear.