Tennis fashions for ladies, like other forms of athletic dress, changed rapidly in the early 1900s, coinciding, not surprisingly, with the rising popularity of the sport. American tournament tennis goes back to 1880, with the founding of the Newport Casino at the summer resort of Newport, Rhode Island; the first Tennis Week (forerunner of the U.S. Open) took place on its lawn in 1881. Edith Wharton writes of the period just prior to this, briefly, in The Age of Innocence (1920): The Newport Archery Club always held its August meeting at Beaufords’. The sport, which had hitherto known no rival but croquet, was beginning to be discarded in favor of lawn-tennis; but the latter game was still considered to rough and inelegant for social occasions…” With fashionable socialites taking up lawn-tennis, this would soon change. By 1915, the tournament had outgrown the casino and moved to Forest Hills, New York. 
Dorothy Dale, the heroine of Margaret Penrose's long-running series books for girls, dressed in the height of feminine tennis chic, 1910.
“Within the last few years there have been radical changes in women’s dress for tennis. Not four years ago an incident occurred in the West Side Club at Forest Hills that is amusing now. One of the members, an attractive young woman, appeared one day on the courts without any sleeves whatsoever on her tennis dress. Some of the more conservative members of the club happened to be sitting on the veranda. Later, as a result, a special meeting was called by the club committee, and one member was chosen to tell Miss -----, tactfully but firmly, that completely bare arms could not be allowed. In the last tournament on which I participated at Forest Hills, there was hardly a sleeve to be found among all of the players!”
One the arms were bared, stockings were the next to go. Wills still wore white silk stockings with her white shoes in 1928, but noted that some players were starting to adopt short wool socks that came just to the top of their shoes, rather than stockings, an idea that Wills admitted was sensible. In fact, sportswriter Al Mitchell credited Wills with popularizing this trend, writing in the August 11, 1934 edition of his column, Out of the Pressbox
“At Wimbledon, the holy of holies in the net world, the idea of going without stockings was considered too déclassé for discussion until Helen Wills Moody, then world champion, adopted the style. Socks were shed all over the world after that.”
Then came tennis shorts revolution in ladies’ tennis attire. At first, they were seen here and there, causing a similar reaction as sleeveless dresses. It took another champion Helen, Helen Jacobs, to bring them into the mainstream. She caused a sensation when she appeared in shirts at Wimbledon in 1933, the year the Associated Press named her Female Athlete of the Year. As Mitchell also wrote in 1934: “Helen Jacobs….stepped out on the Forest Hills, L.I., courts to defend her national championship clad in the scanty attire. You can get your answer to the question of tennis shorts’ popularity by visiting ‘most any court now.”
Helen Jacobs at Wimbledon, 1933.
Carole Lombard. From Life, 1938.
Many women, however, still preferred skirts. Divided skirts (literally) split the difference. Wrote a fashion reporter on May 25, 1931:
“If you are one of those slim young things who went in for shorts and polo shirts last year, you are probably wondering where they stand in good tennis form this year. Frankly, they’re not the rage they were, although you may see them occasionally. Much better, if you’re an acolyte of the trousers system, is the new tennis dress with a divided skirt.”
Tennis players, 1931
The same anonymous AP press writer went on to say: “Two drastic changes have volleyed into the structure of the new tennis dress. The desperately low sunback has practically disappeared from the smart courts… even the lowest back rarely descends farther than midway between your shoulder blades.” A bright belt was another new note in tennis fashion. By summer 1936, culottes were very popular for tennis, as well as for biking and golfing, with divided skirts still more favored than shorts and a shirt.
Jean Harlow
Helen Wills (left, with rackets) and Helen Jacobs, 1939.
White remained the only correct color for formal tennis wear. Color, Wills suggested in 1928, “could be introduced in a sweater, worn to and from the court – solids preferable over patterns, and gay colors such as brilliant yellow or rose shades being better than dark shades.” You could match the color in your headband (unless wearing a white visor or “eye-shade”). Mlle Lenglen’s trademark was the bandeaux. To imitate this look, Wills suggests taking a piece of chiffon about 2-yards long by 5 inches wide and pressing one end tightly to your head, winding it firmly until you can tuck the remaining end snugly under the bandeau at the back of the head. The color should match your sweater.
The glamourous Mlle Lengren, Suzanne with one of her trademark bandeaux, 1920s. She is also depicted in the painting at the top of this post.
Helen Jacobs
Sources & Resources
“The Sporting Times of Tennis” Victoria magazine, July 1992.
The Newport Casino now houses the International Tennis Hall of Fame and Museum. Its grass courts are open to the public. For more info, click here.
The Keds “Court Ace” shoe, a reproduction of their 1934 original, is currently available, here.
Eva Dress’ reproduction 1935 German One-Piece Sports Outfit pattern, here.
It’s been a while since we did the post on 
The procedure for the pedicure was basically the same then as now. Wealthy women could have theirs done at salons, but beauty experts noted that they were very easy to perform at home; the little foam-rubber thingy for separating the toes was available by at least 1938 – before that, wads of cotton was recommended, as in the article below from 1937. As for paining the toes, did they or didn’t they? Just as with painted fingernails, some did, some did not. At first considered rather daring, the practice gained greater acceptance as the decade went on. And, as with many trends of the era, the fad for toenail painting was said to have originated at fashionable French resorts. “You hear a lot about toe-nails painted to match fingernails as the last word in style from the other side, adopted by sophisticates here” Miss Hart had written in 1931, noting that she didn’t see a lot of them around. Her contemporary, Gladys Glad, said in October 1931, “The fad for vari-colored toenails attained a surprising amount of popularity on the continent during the past summer season. On almost all fashionable beaches, girls sported toenails that were colored to match their fingernails or their bathing suits. And in most case, the entire effect, while a trifle bizarre, was really quite a charming one. Of course there are some folks who think this fad a stupid one, and decidedly in poor taste.” 
Spectator sports suit, perfect for the races or polo games. 1938.
Santa Anita Racetrack in Arcadia, California opened on Christmas Day, 1934. Famed architect Gordon B. Kaufmann designed its Art Deco grandstand with its bas relief of running horses. The track was a filming location for many ‘30s movies: the Marx Brothers' A Day at the Races, The Ex-Mrs. Bradford with William Powell and Jean Arthur, the heartbreaking Broadway Bill with Myrna Loy – almost any movie set at a race track – as well as the modern film Seabiscuit, set in the ‘30s-early 1940s. A lot of Hollywood stars of the era also liked to see and be seen there – Kay Francis, Clark Gable, and Carol Lombard, Jimmy Durante, etc. The photo above, c. 1936, is from the fabulous L.A. Public Library digital photo collection. 
With an unseasonably stormy weekend last week, we were able to catch up on DVDs of a couple films set in the 1920s and 1930s that we missed in their original theatrical release, both set in Italy. It’s no coincidence; we’ve been on an Italian campaign lately that Bonaparte would be proud of, screening these movies and leaving brochures casually about for Mr. About Town to notice. Watching these films was like a virtual vacation, at least. Both are visually very beautiful, and feature great period costumes.
Filmed in southern Italy's Amalfi Coast, A Good Woman (2003), starring Helen Hunt and Scarlett Johansson, is set in 1930. Based on Oscar Wilde’s Lady Windermere’s Fan: A Play About a Good Woman, from 1892, this production was filmed on location in and around the town of Amalfi (which looks like a 1930s movie set already) as well as Rome (where the villas shown in the film were actually located). It brought back fond memories of our previous visit to Amalfi. Mrs. Windermere (she’s been downgraded from a Lady and turned into an American here) shops for gloves, hats and gowns; we bought beautiful writing paper and limoncello. 
The costumes, hair, and makeup are well-done; we love the summer dresses, hats, gloves and shoes Miss Johansson wears, and Miss Hunt wears some gorgeous get-ups too, like the dramatic yellow and black number below, and a blue and white outfit at the end of the film that we don’t have a picture of, but trust us, it’s darling. The two leading ladies’ costumes were designed by John Bloomfield, and for the most part fairly authentic looking.
Matson’s beautiful white liner was the third ship of its fleet to be named Lurline. Her maiden voyage took place on January 12, 1933. She joined her sister ships S.S. Malolo, S.S. Mariposa, and S.S. Monterey. It was pure luxury all the way - most of Lurline’s staterooms were first class, and there were games (such as potato sack races and musical chairs – for adults), sports, swimming (Lurline had 2 pools), cocktails, dinners, and dancing designed to amuse.
Arriving in our stateroom (”Lovely!”), stewards would be rushing in and out, delivering telegrams and floral arrangements. We’d quickly scan the passenger lists to see if anyone we knew was sailing, or a movie star – maybe Bette Davis, or Ginger Rogers – then dash to secure deck chairs for best choice of location. Finally, it’s Bon Voyage!
The horse race game was played aboard Lurline. With real betting, such games were popular on transatlantic ships as well.
We might try a Matson Cocktail:
Arrival in Honolulu was exciting. On “boat day” practically the whole city came to meet and greet the arriving Lurline passengers. We’d be dazzled by the colorful leis, handmade on the shore by Native Hawaiian women. Beautiful! Souvenir photo taken at Luke Photo Studio, 1240 Nuuanu St., Honolulu , 1930s
From the ship, Matson’s crew would whisk us and our bags over to the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, the “pink palace” built by Matson at Waikiki Beach in 1927. Here, amidst gorgeous grounds, we’d be able to dance on the beach or at the neighboring Moana Hotel, and listen to Harry Owens’ Royal Hawaiian Band – familiar to mainlanders due to their popular radio broadcasts.
We could learn to hula (or just watch the experts in action), or learn to surf – like tobacco heiress Doris Duke did when she was here with husband James Cromwell on their 1935 honeymoon. Or we might go horseback riding, tour the Dole pineapple plantation, or take a motor tour around the island. Oh dear - our time in 1935 is up way too soon!
The Royal Hawaiian Hotel and the Moana Hotel (now the Moana Surfrider), though dwarfed by modern highrises, are still the queens of Waikiki Beach. Doris Duke enjoyed her visit so much, she decided to build a home there. Her Shangri-la (built in 1937) is now open to the public (
While Colleen, Clara and Louise’s pooches appear more carnival prize than pedigreed Paris pups, dogs seems to have been everywhere in 1927.