Serving Up a Fashion Statement

Gearing up for the upcoming U.S. Open, The Times featured a short piece on the sometimes eccentric fashion choices displayed by tennis players over the years. My two favorites are pictured here: Bill Tilden (1930) and Suzanne Lenglen (1919).

I admire these athletes' ability to perform in unbreathable and excessive (though stylish) clothing. And we haven't exactly come a long way from this: Anne White's Lycra bodysuit (1985) fits the same description, while Rafa Nadal's recently retired clamdiggers always seemed distractingly snug.

Tennis players contend with more than their opponents; they are exposed to the elements (heat, wind, sun) and react to them (through sweat, blisters, tears), while warding off potential disasters (wardrobe malfunctions, injury, a cursed serve) that may interrupt their game.

Still, utility isn't the primary function of most tennis players' wardrobes. Personal style tends to be the goal, displayed through ornamentation, embellishment, and an eye for fashion. We've basically seen a little bit of everything on the court: headbands of all shapes and sizes, jewelry that dangles and catches the sun's glare, blindingly bright colors, and tennis dresses that are fit for a night on the town.

While this sport requires a great degree of athleticism, physical and mental strength and endurance, and an unflinching ability to focus, it's refreshing to know that, with the exception of the all-white attire required of Wimbledon participants, tennis players' apparel is, as we've seen, relatively unrestricted. Many players display the attitude that what they wear is clothing, not a uniform, and individuality is essential. This doesn't take anything away from the game; it gives spectators something more to wow about.

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Get Smart

It's been a while since either of us has posted. To be honest, we've been spending most of our free time Upstate. It's been a summer of gardening, cooking, reading, relaxing, and enjoying a pleasant life of disconnect. Without a television set, media exposure is based on our weekly Netflix movies, Hulu, and Wimbledon.org. However, the remaining weekends of the summer will likely be very different because this past week we bought iPhones.

This was a bold move for us because we resisted the pull of media technology and managed to survive, for the most part, without cell phones until they became absolutely necessary. (Working in television production in NYC without one just can't happen.) Even then we got by with the bare minimum: we bought clunky devices that allowed us to make and receive phone calls but weren't capable of much more.

Then a while back, I was forced to upgrade after my phone was stolen. My replacement wasn't a smart phone, but it was a step in a more useful direction. Suddenly I could take pictures, but I couldn't download or e-mail them, so my blurry images sat trapped in my phone by way of its limited memory. Though I rarely used text to communicate, the numbers and letters on my keypad were starting to fade. And more recently my battery began to show signs of wear, possibly terminal illness. My power button required a good two or three long pushes to execute the command. This, coupled with work demands that require prompt and frequent two-way communication, meant it was time for another upgrade. And this time it needed to be more adventurous.

As happy Mac users, we knew it was only a matter of time before we made the iPhone purchase. Our reluctance was a result of our not wanting to be connected all the time. Our antiquated phones gave us an excuse to disappear. To not have to answer right away. To not have to answer at all. So this purchase came with a condition: these phones will not change our lives.

But it's hard to deny the inevitable. It turns out they are as handy and fun to use as they are advertised. Their design is intuitive and effortless. Their applications are genius, making simple tasks like reading the New York Times online even simpler. It's clear that we're starting to show signs of healthy dependence.

The life change that we feared involved getting sucked into meaningless texting, downloading absurd applications (the virtual fart, the filled beer glass that clinks, etc.), and developing an inability to choose live company over an incoming message.

The life change we're experiencing so far has assuaged our doubts. Now we just need to buy our phones protective skins -- it could be a while before the next upgrade.

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