By Andrea Scaglione&Luce Martini
The usual question, now a social media refrain: “But what does Gucci have to do with tennis?” A recurring query that resurfaces every time the Florentine maison reaffirms its connection to the white sport, as recently seen at Milan Fashion Week with Jannik Sinner. Yet, the answer is not to be found on today’s runways but in a past where Gucci experimented and innovated without fanfare, embedding itself in the world of tennis with a depth few might imagine.
The 1970s were a golden era for tennis. The champions of the time—Björn Borg, Arthur Ashe, John McEnroe, Guillermo Vilas—were not just extraordinary athletes but true style icons. Tennis was played on the grass courts of Wimbledon, the red clay of Roland Garros, and the hard courts of Flushing Meadows, but it was also expressed through fashion, attitudes, and aesthetic choices. It was in this context that Gucci saw the opportunity to enter the tennis world, launching a series of products inspired by the sport, including the famous Gucci Tennis 1977 sneakers.
Gucci’s approach to tennis, however, was always different from that of major sports brands. It never sought to produce just technical apparel or professional equipment but rather to position itself at the intersection of luxury and sport, between lifestyle and elegance—in other words, while Nike , Converse and Adidas shaped the pop sneaker, Gucci played a key role in elevating it to a luxury icon. This attitude, now reinvigorated by the arrival of Jannik Sinner, has brought Gucci back onto the tennis courts, but in a bolder and more contemporary form.
Gucci’s connection to tennis is deeply rooted in detail. In the 1970s, as tennis became a global spectacle, the maison faced the challenge of merging luxury with functionality. The Tennis 1977 sneaker, now an icon, was not just a shoe with a refined appearance but the result of meticulous technical choices. While others focused on white canvas and clean design, Gucci worked beneath the surface: experimenting with hybrid materials, such as grosgrain used as an internal reinforcement to prevent the shoe from losing its shape, a level of craftsmanship borrowed directly from high-end leather goods.
But it didn’t stop there. Behind the lightness of tennis shoes lay an engineering innovation that few remember. It resulted in a rubber sole designed to reduce noise on grass courts. The compound, enriched with hemp fibers, not only muffled the sound of footsteps but also improved vibration absorption—anticipating by decades concepts that are now essential in sports footwear.
It wasn’t just about shoes. In the 1970s, Gucci approached tennis with the same strategy it applied to fashion: exclusivity, carefully studied details, and a connection with the most elite circles of power and culture.
A little-known episode involves a limited series of racket bags produced in 1975 at the request of the Italian Ministry of Foreign Affairs to be given as gifts during Wimbledon. It appears that twelve pieces, made of vegetable-tanned calfskin and lined with silk printed with floral motifs, were intended for influential figures, including the Italian ambassador to London and members of the British royal family. This initiative was never publicized, but it perfectly illustrates how Gucci has always used tennis not just as a sporting stage but as a tool of cultural diplomacy.
The maison’s influence extended even to technical design. Tennis bags from the era integrated elements taken directly from aeronautical engineering: in 1973, Gucci patented a closure system inspired by the mechanisms of Learjet private jet doors. This choice reflected the era’s obsession with speed and efficiency, bringing into tennis innovations more commonly found in the world of high-tech luxury.
Then there were artistically invisible collaborations. The maison has always had a keen eye for art, experimenting with unconventional partnerships. In 1978, the Roman conceptual artist Giosetta Fioroni took part in an unofficial project with Gucci for a tennis accessories capsule. Inspired by her research on symbols and space, Fioroni reinterpreted the iconic Web stripe by incorporating micro-embroideries of constellations and zodiac symbols. The wristbands and headbands from this collaboration never reached the market: they were distributed only to a select group of clients during the Rome tournament in 1979.
Another experiment, never realized on a large scale, involved many designers and artists. For example the idea was to print the GG monogram in mirrored writing on the soles of the Tennis 1977, so that the footprints left on the court would be legible only on reflective surfaces, such as wet grass. A tribute to Leonardo da Vinci and his obsession with mirrored writing. The project was abandoned due to excessive costs, but some prototypes still circulate among private collectors today.
Gucci’s obsession with technicality also translated into patents and groundbreaking solutions that, although little known, influenced the future of sportswear.
In 1974, the maison developed a hidden ventilation system for tennis shoes: small elliptical holes placed under the tongue, camouflaged by the GG pattern. This solution allowed for effective air circulation without altering the shoe’s minimalist design, a feature that became a standard in sports brands in the 1990s, albeit without any attribution to Gucci.
Another technical detail, reserved for a few special pieces, was the sand-resistant zipper introduced in 1972 for bags designed for clay court tournaments, such as the Virginia Slims in San Diego. The zip, developed in collaboration with the Swiss company Riri, incorporated boar bristle brushes that prevented sand from infiltrating the bag. An extraordinarily advanced idea, expensive and impractical for mass production, but one that testifies to Gucci’s meticulous approach to every detail.
Gucci it was a true laboratory of hidden innovation, a space where luxury and sport met long before the concept of luxury sportswear became a market trend.
That period marked the beginning of an ongoing dialogue between Gucci and tennis, which did not end with the close of the 1970s. In the years that followed, as tennis entered the era of technical sponsorships and high-performance materials, Gucci maintained its connection with the sport, incorporating tennis references into its collections, reinterpreting iconic accessories, and collaborating with figures linked to the game.
If in the 1970s Gucci had intuited tennis’s aesthetic potential, today it is transforming it into a cultural phenomenon, redefining the concept of luxury sportswear.
And so what about Sinner? Sinner, the new style icon: the silent language of luxury
At 23, Jannik Sinner is no longer just one of the strongest and most promising tennis players on the circuit: he is a symbol, a style icon capable of conveying a new language, one of subtle elegance and choices that are never banal. His talent on the court is indisputable, but what also stands out is his discreet charm, his understated demeanor that has made him the perfect face of so-called quiet luxury—the kind of luxury that doesn’t shout but whispers.
It’s not just about clothes. Sinner doesn’t just wear Gucci; he embodies it, with the same ease with which he holds his racket. In the Gucci is a feeling campaign, shot by photographer Riccardo Raspa, the young man from Sesto Pusteria poses with his usual nonchalance: GG monogrammed turtlenecks, elegant cardigans paired with slim ties, sunglasses that seem straight out of an ’80s film. There is no affectation, no ostentation. The red-haired tennis star has brought to the runway the same lightness with which he faces the toughest matches, letting the details, the attitude, the silent charisma speak for themselves.
Even the fashion world, typically reluctant to praise outsiders, has welcomed Sinner as one of its own. It’s no coincidence that even a legend like Serena Williams commented enthusiastically on a Gucci-posted photo of him: just a simple “Love this,” but enough to establish the tennis player as something more than just a brand ambassador. In a sports landscape where looks are often loud, excessive, designed to make noise, Jannik stands out by subtraction. It is his restraint that makes him unique—that air of someone who knows he belongs without needing to prove it.
His ultimate endorsement came during Milan Fashion Week 2025, when Sinner made his first public appearance after a turbulent period, seated front row at Gucci’s show. Beside him were heavyweights like Vogue editor-in-chief Anna Wintour and Kering’s chairman François-Henri Pinault. Not a mere courtesy invite, but a clear message: Sinner is no longer just an athlete—he is an ambassador of the new luxury sportswear.
Further Reading: Little Book of Gucci by Karen Homer
“Style, identity, and heritage—these elements define both fashion and sport. Gucci, with its timeless designs and deep ties to athletic culture, has long been at the intersection of luxury and performance. In Little Book of Gucci, Karen Homer explores the brand’s evolution, from its artisanal beginnings to its status as a global fashion icon.”
📚 For those interested in the legacy of Gucci and its influence in fashion, Little Book of Gucci is a must-read:
🔗 Little Book of Gucci on Goodreads
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