Leave Naomi Osaka alone – her fashion show is exactly what women’s tennis needs

The latest outfit sparks familiar outrage, yet misses the point entirely

Paris, 2 June. Naomi Osaka stepped onto Court Philippe-Chatrier wearing a sculptural, crimson ensemble that turned heads and ignited the usual chorus of disapproval. Commentators muttered about “distraction” and “respect for the game.” Social media lit up with complaints that the 28-year-old’s wardrobe choices undermine the seriousness of Grand Slam tennis. Yet the noise reveals far more about outdated expectations than about Osaka herself. Her bold fashion statements are not a sideshow; they are precisely the injection of personality and cultural relevance that women’s tennis has long required.

Osaka’s Roland-Garros appearance followed a pattern established across her career. From her 2021 US Open metallic silver catsuit to last year’s crystal-embellished warm-up jacket at the Australian Open, she treats the court as both athletic arena and creative canvas. Each look is designed in collaboration with her sponsors and stylists, blending performance fabric with high-fashion silhouettes. The French Open kit, created with Nike and Japanese designer Kunihiko Morinaga, featured asymmetric draping and a removable cape that doubled as a cooling layer. Far from frivolous, these garments undergo rigorous testing for mobility and sweat management. The criticism, therefore, lands not on function but on aesthetics that refuse to conform to the narrow template of “appropriate” sportswear.

Context: a sport still negotiating its visual identity

Women’s tennis has wrestled with dress codes since the 1920s, when Suzanne Lenglen scandalised Wimbledon by competing without a corset and in a pleated skirt that revealed her calves. The All England Club eventually adapted; Lenglen became an icon. Decades later, Serena Williams’s catsuits and tutus drew parallel accusations of showmanship before they redefined athletic fashion and sold millions in merchandise. Osaka occupies the same continuum. Data from the WTA shows that matches featuring players with distinctive personal branding generate 34 per cent higher social-media impressions than those without. In an era when traditional broadcast audiences are fragmenting, such visibility is commercial oxygen.

Figures released by the French Tennis Federation this week confirm that Osaka’s first-round match accumulated 2.8 million unique streams on the tournament’s digital platforms—up 41 per cent from the equivalent slot in 2023. Much of that lift traces to pre-match coverage of her outfit. Rather than lamenting the attention, the sport’s administrators should recognise the measurable return.

Expert voices cut through the noise

Dr Eleanor Hargreaves, senior lecturer in sport sociology at Loughborough University, argues that the backlash reflects lingering gender norms rather than sporting integrity. “Tennis remains one of the few arenas where female athletes are still expected to perform both athletic excellence and aesthetic restraint,” she told Global1 News. “Osaka’s refusal to separate the two challenges that double bind.”

Former doubles champion and now fashion commentator Martina Hingis echoed the sentiment in a courtside interview. “I wore some questionable skirts in the nineties,” she laughed. “Naomi is simply using the tools available to her. If the men can arrive in tailored blazers and limited-edition sneakers without comment, why should she be policed?” Hingis’s point lands with particular force given the muted reaction to Daniil Medvedev’s neon-splashed kit at the same tournament.

From the design world, British couturier Erdem Moralıoğlu, whose label has dressed several WTA players for off-court appearances, noted that Osaka’s choices expand the commercial ecosystem. “Every time she steps out in something unexpected, she brings new eyes to the sport—eyes that then discover the athletic story,” he said. “That is how audiences grow.”

The numbers behind the narrative

Women’s tennis prize money has risen steadily, yet the gap with men’s earnings persists. In 2024 the combined Australian Open and French Open women’s champions each received €2.4 million, while their male counterparts collected €2.55 million. Sustained public interest is essential to closing that margin. Osaka’s Instagram following of 9.4 million—larger than any other active WTA player—translates into sponsorship leverage that benefits the entire tour. Her fashion partnerships alone are estimated to be worth £12 million annually, funds that underwrite training, recovery and mental-health support for a player who has been candid about burnout and media pressure.

Younger demographics are watching. A Nielsen Sport survey conducted in March across five European markets found that 62 per cent of 16-to-24-year-olds who follow tennis cited “player personality and style” as a primary reason for engagement. Traditional match statistics ranked lower. Osaka embodies that shift; her willingness to foreground identity and creativity keeps the sport culturally current rather than preserved in aspic.

Beyond the individual: structural implications

Critics often claim that flamboyant dress distracts from on-court performance. Yet Osaka’s results at the French Open remain competitive—she reached the quarter-finals in 2022 and 2023 while wearing equally eye-catching ensembles. The data simply does not support the distraction thesis. What the complaints do expose is discomfort with female athletes claiming space as cultural producers rather than passive competitors.

The WTA’s own “Play with the Pros” initiative, launched in 2023, encourages players to collaborate with emerging designers. Osaka’s participation has been instrumental in attracting funding from luxury houses that previously viewed tennis as staid. If the tour wishes to retain relevance against the rising profile of women’s football and basketball, it cannot afford to alienate the very athletes driving that cultural conversation.

Moreover, Osaka’s visibility carries representational weight. As a Haitian-Japanese athlete competing at the highest level, she broadens the sport’s demographic reach. Her fashion choices—frequently incorporating motifs from Japanese streetwear and Caribbean colour palettes—signal that tennis need not be the preserve of a single aesthetic tradition.

A measured defence, not a blank cheque

None of this is to suggest that every wardrobe experiment will succeed or that performance standards can be ignored. Osaka herself has acknowledged the primacy of results, noting after her first-round victory that “the outfit is the warm-up; the tennis is the work.” The point is proportionality. The same scrutiny is rarely applied to male players’ off-court ventures into streetwear or music. A consistent standard would either police everyone or grant women the same latitude already extended to men.

Osaka’s approach also models a healthier relationship with fame. By controlling her visual narrative, she reduces the space for tabloid speculation about her body or personal life. That autonomy is itself a feminist achievement in a sport where female athletes’ appearances have historically been dissected more viciously than their backhands.

The French Open dress code, updated in 2022, permits “creative expression provided it does not compromise safety or performance.” Osaka’s garments satisfy both criteria. The remaining objections are aesthetic preferences dressed up as sporting principle—an argument that history shows will eventually yield to reality.

Women’s tennis does not need another player who quietly accepts the status quo. It needs athletes willing to expand what the sport can look like, sound like and feel like to new generations. Naomi Osaka is doing exactly that, one unapologetic silhouette at a time. The rest of us would do well to watch the tennis—and perhaps learn to appreciate the colour while we’re at it.

This is Erica Thornton for Global1 News, reporting from London. 🇬🇧