TEN CENTIMETERS:
A Look at Female Sexualisation and Double-standards within Sports Renata Rîmbu
F
ourteen athletes kneeling down side-by side. Seven men, seven women. The men are wearing long tank tops and shorts. The women- bikini bottoms and a sports bra. The difference in exposed skin is immediately eye-catching. The photograph I am describing circulated the internet and news outlets this summer, when during the Euro 2021 tournaments, Norway’s women’s beach handball team decided to forgo their normal uniform and play in shorts instead of bikinis. It was a protest against the uniform regulations of the sport, with the women making use of their platform in the bronze medal match to make an important statement: (female) athletes should be allowed to wear what they deem comfortable while playing, and not be dependent on a sexist standard. The consequence? They were all fined 150 euros by the European Handball Association’s Disciplinary Commission, adding up to a sum of 1500 euros for the entire team, on grounds of “improper clothing”. The uproar which followed is easily imaginable. Female athletes came forward with countless stories of unfair treatment, joined by women working
in other fields who shared their experiences. Pop singer P!nk offered to pay the entirety of the fine, and all others that may follow. The reaction of the International Handball Federation was less decisive to say the least, with a spokesperson claiming they did not know the actual reasons for these rules and that an internal investigation was to be conducted. Once again, this goes to prove that a statement and subsequent scandal are needed in order to even proceed in the direction of changing the status quo. It makes one wonder, however, why no one questioned said rules before--some food for thought. The “bikini controversy” sparked a heated debate, with some critics arguing that any institution, in sports or otherwise, is at liberty to impose a certain dress code. A reasonable argument to a certain extent, but then the situation must be presented in its entirety. While male players are allowed to play in tank tops and shorts no longer than ten centimetres above the knee, the regulations state that women have to wear bikini bottoms “with a close fit and cut on an upward angle toward the top of the leg” and a maximum side width of 10 centimetres. If men can play in shorts without being inhibited, why can’t women? The Norwegian team explained the bikini bottoms aren’t practical in a sport where one has to repeatedly dive into the sand, beyond them being degrading and culturally insensitive to certain countries. Why then, we might ask again, is it acceptable for men to be covered, but for women it is labelled as “improper clothing”? Many have argued that rules ought to make sense to the sport they refer to and help the athletes achieve the best results possible. Clearly, the Norwegian women’s team has a different understanding of what helps them achieve successful results. The deeply rooted problem of socially-ingrained sexism is one side of this story, with a matter of institutional abuse of authority being at play as well. Sports associations and federations have the power to set very clear rules regarding aspects
