Skorts, skimpy leotards and all-white fears – how sports kits are failing female athletes

Recent ruling on camogie uniforms is indicative of a wider problem

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about sports clothing this week. On Sunday, I’m running a half-marathon and I’ve been trying to decide what clothes I can wear that will be comfortable to run in for hours.

I’m hoping for leggings that stay put and don’t ride up, a T-shirt that won’t get too sweaty, socks that have some protection against blisters.

The fact is, on the day, I will have enough on my plate as it is without worrying about the practicality of my clothes.

But many women in sport are being forced to consider much more than that, and it’s the result of archaic tradition that remains a barrier to access for so many.

Earlier this month, at the Camogie Congress – at which representatives from clubs around the country gather annually – attendees voted to defeat a motion that aimed to remove the requirement for players to wear skorts.

As it stands, the ruling says players must wear a “skirt/skort/divided skirt” – which is essentially a pair of shorts with a wrap around the outside to give the appearance of a skirt.

Backlash from players has mostly focused on their agency. The skorts themselves aren’t the problem, but rather the fact that it’s a mandate and not a choice.

“It’s hard to believe that people who aren’t playing or are not involved on the pitch are making these decisions,” Dublin camogie player Niamh Gannon said.

“I don’t mind the skorts, but I think everyone should have a choice… we only wear them because we have to.”

Nike’s Team USA track-and-field kits were similarly criticised this week, after the sportswear giant revealed its uniform line-up for the Paris Olympics this summer.

While athletes will have a range of styles to choose from, one of the women’s kits is a high-cut skimpy

leotard that hardly covers the bikini line. Lauren Fleshman, a US national champion, took to Instagram to lambast the kit that she called “a costume born of patriarchal forces that are no longer welcome or needed to get eyes on women’s sports”.

“Women’s kits should be in service to performance, mentally and physically,” she wrote. If this outfit was truly beneficial to physical performance, men would wear it.

“This is not an elite athletic kit for track and field.”

Nike has insisted its design was created in consultation with female athletes, but it’s hard to fathom the decision-making that led to the male version having shorts that cover the thighs, whereas the female kit wouldn’t look out of place on Baywatch.

You can’t discuss the practicality of sports kits without also considering the colour.

It took until last year for Wimbledon to finally rule that players who menstruate would be allowed to wear dark shorts, and even then mandatory white skirts need to be worn over them.

It’s appalling it took so long to change.

I invite you to imagine playing one of the biggest matches of your sporting career, which is being watched live by millions, while also having to worry that those millions of viewers might see you bleeding.

That was the reality for so many for too long.

I did taekwondo from the ages of eight to 16, and our club wore white doboks – Korean martial arts uniforms. I can still remember the panic each month, worrying I’d bleed onto the white trousers while sparring with someone. To combat that, the club sold black trousers.

In GAA clubs around the country, as well as in rugby clubs, teams have moved away from white shorts for that exact reason, opting instead for navy or black.

It’s an easy fix for something that can cause immense stress and anxiety for members, which undoubtedly affects performance.

All of this feels important because of the conversations about how to get more engagement with women’s teams, how to encourage young girls to take part in sport and how to ensure female athletes are taken seriously.

There have undoubtedly been huge strides made in all of those departments; viewership is increasing and the likes of Katie McCabe and Megan Rapinoe are household names.

But it is not enough to say all sports are now welcome places for women – until there is parity across the kit wardrobe, they simply are not.

Camogie players should be allowed to play in whatever feels best, regardless of how ladylike or “proper” they look.

Tennis whites should be left hanging up for the days of the month when a player might bleed.

A runner’s focus should be on how fast they’ll make it around the track, not on whether they shaved their bikini line the night before.

I understand the purpose of uniforms, especially when it comes to identifying teams, or harking back to tradition like at Wimbledon.

But there has to be a better way of implementing them.

There is no one-size-fits-all for any clothing, let alone in sports where players and athletes can have a wide variation of shapes, sizes and strengths.

Consult these women at every stage of design, listen to their voices when they tell you what they need or you risk dropping the ball entirely.

‘I can still remember the panic each month, worrying I’d bleed onto the white trousers while sparring’