I photograph tennis. And when I say that I do not mean only matches, points, the scoreboard. I mean memory, what remains when the noise drops and the image keeps speaking. Tennis is made of bodies you can recognise even from behind, of gestures that return the same yet different every time, of details that to an outsider are nothing and to someone who really looks are everything.
That is why, for me, it is natural that fashion should latch on to tennis. Not because it needs to make it “more interesting”, but because tennis is already a complete visual language. Just look at a photograph of tennis players from any era: posture, codes, discipline, elegance. The frame holds on its own.
Think of Suzanne Lenglen photographed by Jacques-Henri Lartigue. Those images do not need reinterpreting, they are already a story. And that alone is enough to grasp something simple: photograph a tennis player and you are already in the realm of fashion. The tennis player is dressed, carries markers of recognition, social markers, cultural markers. Even the racquet signals belonging, taste, status. But the decisive point is another one: the tennis player does not only “wear” those markers, they often produce them. They are a bearer of symbols and, at times, a creator of symbols, even when they are not trying to be.
That is why it is enough to photograph them outside any campaign and what you get already reads like an editorial. You do not need the advertising pretext. They are already models, often stronger than any borrowed fashion model, because the credibility is not performed: it is certified by the gesture, the pressure, the competition.
In recent years I have photographed tennis in places where everything is glossy and controlled, like the ATP Finals and in places where tradition clings to you and measures you, like The Hurlingham Club. From behind the lens the most obvious change is not “they dress better”. It is that, even before they play, a scene already exists. The setting becomes a set, the arrival becomes material, the detail becomes a hook. The match remains the heart, around the heart grows a machine that turns every fragment into a monetisable asset.
That tennis is a natural ground for fashion, luxury and pop culture is not news. What has changed is the balance of power. More and more, fashion does not sit around tennis, it uses it as a bank of faces, postures and symbols without needing to go through tennis institutions to legitimise itself. The match stays at the centre, but the economy of images runs on a parallel track. If this machine feels abstract, just look at where the money ends up.
Money: tennis as image capital
One indicator is the make-up of earnings, because it dismantles the clichés. In December 2025 the WTA reprises Sportico’s data and writes that Coco Gauff tops the ranking with 31 million dollars, followed by Aryna Sabalenka (30) and Iga Swiatek (23.1) and that 10 of the 15 athletes on the list are tennis players.
What matters here is not only the figure. It is the proportion. Tennis.com, covering the same list, notes that for Gauff 23 million of the 31 come off the court, meaning outside the lines, through partnerships with brands.
This is not moralising. It is structural: the court certifies, the face monetises. And the face today is a territory where fashion moves with a freedom that does not depend on tennis.
Here’s how this economy shows up, in three ways.
Coco Gauff: when the capsule is not an add-on, but a shift in language
The cleanest case is the New Balance x Miu Miu collaboration with Coco Gauff. The sense is that this is not sport inviting fashion, but fashion absorbing sport into its own codes.
The people building it say so. Evan Zeder, director of global sports marketing tennis at New Balance, tells The National that the collaboration was seen as an opportunity to do something that transcends the sport, to elevate your athlete, to elevate all of the brands.
And Gauff, in the same setting, talks about wanting to bring more cultures into the sport. It does not sound like a press-release line, it sounds like a change of register: I am not only wearing something, I am taking part in a conversation.
If you want a small but true detail, there is a perfect one. In another context Gauff jokes about heels, saying
“High heels are my kryptonite”.
It is a quip, but it contains the exact measure: aesthetics are part of the story, but the athlete remains an athlete.
Naomi Osaka: the scene as personal storytelling, not as an outfit
With Naomi Osaka, fashion does not feel like a side note, it feels like a form of narration.
At the Australian Open 2026 she walks on with a look inspired by a jellyfish, created with Nike and the couturier Robert Wun. Vogue reports Osaka’s words, as she explains the origin of the idea while reading to her daughter:
“There was an image of a jellyfish, and when I showed it to her she got so excited”.
It is an almost domestic line and precisely for that reason it is revealing. The scene does not begin in order to “make news”. It begins as a mental image, then becomes clothing, then becomes an entrance, then becomes content.
This makes the difference with the 1990s idea of “I stop playing and go and be a model” crystal clear. Today it works the other way round: precisely because you are still on tour, you are absorbed into a system that uses you as a face on a permanent basis.
And at that point tennis becomes a continuous certification. You do not need to say “I’m credible”. The fact that you play, travel, live under pressure and win or lose in front of everyone says it.
Sinner: when the maison speaks and tennis becomes heritage
With Jannik Sinner the most important voice is often not his. It is the maison’s voice.
In the official text of Gucci’s “Gucci Is a Feeling” campaign, the key line is crystal clear: the connection with tennis goes back to the 1970s, when the house produced its first tennis-inspired pieces. And it tells the story with fashion credits, not sporting ones, naming the Creative Director, Art Director and photographer.
That is the point: it is not tennis that drives the narrative. It is fashion taking tennis as a visual repertoire, cutting it into its own story and returning it as heritage.
The ATP in 2025: fashion as a programme, not only an individual case
It is true that the tour also tries to organise and capitalise, with strategies, style suite, social production, arrival formats and all the rest. But that push looks more like an attempt to hold ground than a spontaneous emergence. The engine often seems elsewhere: in the fact that luxury has decided tennis is a useful language, already ready-made.
The control group: who stays outside the lens
There is something your eye catches immediately and press releases never say: not everyone gets picked. The system is selective, ruthless. For every star turned into a global face, there are dozens and dozens of professionals who make do, especially outside the top 100 and, for many players a long way from the top, the picture is even harsher.
Here the Bellucci example is useful precisely because it shows selection before glamour. For months, hovering around world No 100 and without real international visibility, there was no ready-made narrative, no aesthetic package to sell, just tennis. Then he made a deliberate move: Bellucci is a genuine connoisseur and enthusiast of vintage fashion and he decided to bring that taste on court, turning it into identity. He even stepped away from the sponsorships he had and turned up in what he truly loved, shoes, shirts, socks, the lot, all chosen by him, not “built” to be read by a brand. That choice gave him a signature, made him recognisable, therefore memorable, therefore visible beyond the bubble. At that point the story changed pace: not because he changed, but because the system started to see him as selectable and C.P. Company chose him. (already covered here.)
That is the point: absorption is not an even shower. It is a choice. It is a list. It is a lens that tightens on a few and leaves many out.
It is not tennis that sells fashion, it is fashion that buys tennis
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