TikTok generation buys into savvy Lionesses as Euros glory beckons

TikTok generation buys into savvy Lionesses as Euros glory beckons

Team’s ability to appeal to their fans has made them a valuable asset to sponsors and a launchpad for the wider women’s football game


Six weeks ago, before Michelle Agyemang’s sudden star burst and Chloe Kelly’s smiling sangfroid, before the nerve-shredding ordeal of Italy and the emotional trauma of Sweden, before the country fell for the Lionesses all over again, Leah Williamson reported for England duty in a Nike crop top, oversized Nike jeans, and a pair of silver T90 Shox Magia that might, at first glance, be mistaken for AstroTurf boots.

There was a time, not long ago, when England’s players – regardless of gender – attended training camps under instructions to wear only team-issued kit.


Newsletters
Sign up to hear the latest from The Observer

For information about how The Observer protects your data, read our Privacy Policy.


Despite the Football Association relaxing those rules a little in recent years, the majority of the men’s side still hew to those general guidelines. The women’s team, by contrast, have embraced “arrivals day” as an event in itself.

In June, for example, as the players were deposited at St George’s Park for their preparatory camp for these European Championships, they did so in shimmering silver footwear (Williamson), a customised England tracksuit (Grace Clinton) and knee-length jorts (Alex Greenwood).

If there might be a temptation to feel that presenting a group of elite athletes awaiting their third consecutive major final through the lens of their clothes is both sexist and reductive, it should be resisted.

Related articles:

Leah Williamson alone has worked with Calvin Klein, Gucci and Nike, and there’s no reason to believe the market is near saturated

There is, first and foremost, sharp commercial sense in transforming the atrium at St George’s Park into a brief, impromptu runway. The Lionesses may be “national ­treasures”, as Lisa Parfitt, co-founder of the sports marketing agency The Space Between, put it, but unlike their male counterparts, they still draw the bulk of their income from endorsements.

In the years since their victory in the European Championships in 2022, many of the most prominent members of the squad have been inundated with brand partnerships: Williamson alone has worked with Calvin Klein, Gucci and (as should be obvious from her choice of arrival apparel) Nike. There is no reason to believe the market is anywhere close to saturated.

“The scale of the commercial opportunities right now is wild,” said Jo Tongue, one of women’s football’s leading agents. “Compared with even four years ago, the shift is huge. It’s no longer just about boots or a ­standard sponsor; there’s real ­creativity happening, in fashion, in media, in content.”

There is a trade-off for that. Through their various England social media accounts, the FA published three clips of the players that day. On TikTok, they attracted more than half a million cumulative views. A single one, focused on Williamson’s shoes, garnered 750,000 more on Instagram. Arrivals day – a concept borrowed from basketball – is not a chance to dress up. It is a way of paying the bills.

Happy days: fans celebrate the Lionesses’ win against Italy last Tuesday

Happy days: fans celebrate the Lionesses’ win against Italy last Tuesday

Its broader significance, though, is illustrated by the comments attached to those clips. Football has always traditionally followed the naming conventions of public schools: players have been habitually referred to by their surnames for decades. The Lionesses are different. To their social followers, the Lionesses are Leah and Lucy, Keira, Georgia and LJ.

That is more telling than it might at first appear. The country admires them for their sporting prowess, of course: whatever happens against Spain this evening, they are now the most successful England football team of all time.

But the Lionesses’ appeal, the connection they have forged with their fans, is not solely rooted in the tackles they make or the goals they score. It runs much deeper than has generally been typical in team sports, where supporters repeat as a catechism the idea that players come and go and only the badge remains.

In its intensity and intimacy, the bond between the Lionesses and those who watch them feels closer to the sort of fandom more usually seen in music. Their audience cares about their style, their tastes, their interests because they are invested not just in what they do, but in who they are. “It’s the most personal relationship I’ve ever encountered in sport,” said Rachel Gould, founder of Baller FC, a women’s football event company.

Gould attributes it, largely, to the nature of the players themselves. “They’re great personalities,” she said. “That’s true individually and collectively. They’re really relatable. They look like they’re having a great time. They have this energy and enthusiasm that is quite addictive for fans.”

Tongue believes there is still work to be done on making that relatability as widespread as possible. “We know that twice as many Black British girls as white British girls dream of becoming an athlete or sportsperson, but there is a massive drop and churn where their needs are not being met,” she said.

Her hope is that Agyemang might help break that ceiling: not just because of the goals she has scored, but because of the potency of her story, that of a Black teenager arriving almost unheralded in a team that has historically been largely white – and immediately proving decisive. “We need more voices, more stories from different backgrounds to ensure even more people find a home in football,” Tongue said. “That is where the real power is.”

‘England women produce all these iconic moments: Chloe Kelly’s shinpads with her wedding photographs, Lucy Bronze strapping her own thigh’

Rachel Gould, founder of Baller FC

That, in her eyes, lies at the heart of the Lionesses’ appeal: that they make fans “feel seen. They’re the real deal. They’re open. They talk about the things they love, whether it is coffee or fashion, or food or make-up. They do it with no filter. They connect with people. That kind of authenticity matters.”

It is that which makes the players so valuable to brands, Parfitt said. “They’re cool, they’re fierce, they stand up for what’s right,” she said. “But most importantly, they sell stuff. That’s why their value is soaring.”

But it also gives them a rare prominence in a sport in which “fan culture is still emerging”, as Holly Murdoch, the chief operating officer of the Women’s Super League (WSL) has said. Fandom in women’s football is often not something that has been passed down from one generation to the next. It is, instead, constantly evolving, especially online, as more and more people come to the game.

“There is less policing of what it is to be a fan,” Gould said. Baller FC has been running watch parties in London and Manchester during the Euros. “There is a great passion for fan culture, but the idea of how you do that is far less ingrained.”

Michelle Agyemang, right, who scored one of England’s two goals in their Uefa Women's Euro semi-final last week

Michelle Agyemang, right, who scored one of England’s two goals in their Uefa Women's Euro semi-final last week

Research that suggests young fans follow individuals more than teams is often greeted as an impending sign of the apocalypse in men’s football. In the women’s game, as Gould said, the “uniqueness” of each fan’s journey is seen as something to be cherished.

Last year, the WSL commissioned a wide-ranging piece of research into its own fanbase. “It was the first time we had spoken to fans under the age of 18,” Murdoch said. “I found that surprising.”

The work uncovered three main groups of fans: “core” supporters, the most ardent and longstanding; “secondary” fans, who come from men’s football, often because of the more family-friendly feel to women’s games; and finally what they have come to think of as “free” fans – those who are new not just to women’s football but to football as a whole.

“The scale of that fandom is huge,” Murdoch said. And, for most of them, their first point of contact will be the Lionesses. That was true in 2022, and is likely to be true again this year. Sarina Wiegman’s side might not have looked quite as imperious as most would have hoped over the course of the last few weeks in Switzerland, but the manner of their progress to the final has been undeniably compelling.

England recovered from two goals down against Sweden to squeeze through on penalties; Agyemang and Kelly intervened at the last to overcome the Italians. “It’s been incredible to watch,” said Gould. “And they have this ability to produce all these iconic moments: Chloe Kelly’s shinpads with her wedding photographs and her dogs on them, Lucy Bronze strapping her own thigh.”

It has, once more, hooked the nation. About 2.6 million people watched the opening game against France; some 10.2 million tuned into ITV to watch the end of the Italy game, the channel’s highest audience of the year. Those sorts of figures are not supposed to be possible in a media landscape fractured irreparably by streaming.

The Lionesses appear to be an exception. They have an ability to captivate the country, to win hearts and minds, to make people care about them. That has a value to brands, but is also a launchpad for the sport. “There is a reason [why] we announced our fixtures for the next [WSL] season on Friday,” Murdoch said. “We will see a boost because of the Lionesses.

“They are an ­incredible driver of interest in the league, because of that connection they have with the fans. We want to ride off the back of that, whatever happens in the final.”


Photographs by Lee Martin/The Observer; Nick Potts/PA; Eddie Keogh/Getty 


Share this article