The Disempowerment of Pink.
Are Women in Golf Moving Forward — or Quietly Stepping Back?
Last week at the Women in Golf Awards, something was said that stayed with me for a few days after the event. I couldn’t work out why or how to articulate my thoughts initially.
A speaker stepped up to accept her award and in doing so thanked her sponsor Adidas for providing her promotional clothing and jokingly added:
“…and thankfully none of it was pink!”
Audience Applause. Cheers. A celebratory sigh of relief.
And as everyone clapped, something in me recoiled — not because I particularly love pink (I don’t wear it myself), but because of the underlying message:
When did pink become something we, as women in golf, need to distance ourselves from?
When did colour become a symbol of weakness rather than confidence?
And why are we applauding the absence of it?
The Pink Paradox
Here’s the irony: plenty of men wear pink.
In fact many male golfers wear garish, loud, unapologetic colours on the golf course — and no one claps because they avoided a gendered stereotype.
But for women?
We seem desperate to prove we’re “serious golfers,” and somewhere along the way, we picked up the idea that “serious” means:
Muted. Minimal. Masculine.
Are we really saying that the way to belong in golf is to abandon brightness, abandon femininity, abandon the full spectrum of expression? Obviously this is largely where FAMARA comes in, but let’s stay on point for the purpose of making a point.
What a strange kind of progress, and does it beg the question, still :
Do Women in Golf Need to Blend In to Be Accepted?
The evening made me think about the industry more broadly — our “Girls That Swing” groups, our Friday morning “get women into golf sessions”, our separate tees, separate spaces, separate everything.
When a lad gets into golf it’s usually because someone in his family bought him a set of clubs and sent him to the driving range. Do women need to have a different way to get into golf?
Sometimes it feels like instead of integrating into the sport, we’re building smaller rooms inside it.
Rooms we decorate differently, police differently, and then congratulate ourselves for being allowed in.
Don’t get me started on the majority of the awards were presented by men. Plenty of pats on the back for the well-deserved winners in the room or was it pats on the head for our efforts.
Can I just say that segregation dressed up as empowerment is still segregation.
The Lionesses Aren’t Hiding
In trying to make my point at the weekend I looked at football. How are women integrating into this sport?
- · The Lionesses aren’t trying to dilute themselves to mimic the men.
- · They aren’t dimming their presence or softening their identity.
- · They’re out there winning World Cups while the men's team is… well… not.
If we truly believed in integration, why not put six of the best Lionesses into the men’s World Cup squad and create a fully integrated team of our best players from all genders?
Why not?
Skill is skill.
Speed is speed.
Talent is talent.
Is it integration if women have a separate world cup to men? Just a question . . . I’ll leave it hanging. . .
Are we clinging to categories?
Do we cling to separation?
Are we stuck with the idea that “women belong over there, doing it our way, in our corner.”
So . . . let’s talk about pink.
When did pink become prissy?
Weak?
A symbol of “not serious”?
Historically, pink was actually worn by men.
For centuries, it was a marker of wealth, status, confidence — even power.
It became “feminine” only once 20th-century marketing decided it should be.
Pink is not the problem.
The problem is what we project onto pink.
If wearing pink makes a woman feel strong, stylish, bold, expressive — then why on earth should the golf industry shame that?
If she rocks up to the tee box in a pink tutu — fabulous.
She’s playing golf.
She’s participating.
She’s showing up as herself.
Are we actually trying to empower women…
or are we quietly encouraging them to shrink?
Golf Doesn’t Need Less Colour — It Needs More Freedom
Women in golf do not need to dress like men to be taken seriously.
We don’t need to trade colours we love for credibility.
We don’t need to apologise for being feminine, or expressive, or bold.
And if pink isn’t your colour?
Fine. It isn't mine either.
But can we stop applauding the absence of it?
Empowerment is about inclusion, not elimination.
It’s about options, not avoidance.
It’s about women taking up space — in whatever colours they choose.
Whether it’s navy, black, a riot of florals, or the brightest, boldest pink the course has ever seen.
Wear what makes you feel unstoppable.
Golf will be better for it.
Enter FAMARA – Stage Left
