LONG READ Georgia Evans on the power of a pink bow: ‘I’d take all the bad days for that one show of humanity’

Just before the grand finale of Greta Gerwig’s 2023 masterpiece, Barbie, Gloria produces a now-iconic monologue.

She’s in ‘Weird’ Barbie’s house – surrounded by unique, passionate, and principled women – each of whom have been hung, drawn, and quartered by the myriad standards to which their gender is held – and the Mattel employee has had enough.

“I’m just so tired of watching myself and every single other woman tie herself into knots so that people will like us,” she vents. “It is literally impossible.”

It’s a battle cry, poignant and incandescent all at once – and received standing ovations in cinemas across the world. Two years later, in another universe entirely – war paint of a different kind would be applied at Sandy Park – as Wales and Fijiana locked horns in their 2025 Rugby World Cup pool match, before a sea of pink hair ribbons.

But we’ll get to those later: this story doesn’t begin in Barbie Land, nor in Exeter, but: Yeovil.

My best friend’s dad was her coach,” the Saracen reflects, “and he would bang on and on about ‘Marlie this… Marlie that…

Georgia Evans first picked up an oval ball in Somerset, in a town known for its glove factories, giant-slaying footballers, and – infamously – Marlie Packer- these days a two-time World Cup winner: then a prodigious juggernaut, making quite the splash.

“My best friend’s dad was her coach,” the Saracen reflects, “and he would bang on and on about ‘Marlie this… Marlie that…’. She was such a big name in the world I grew up in: I knew exactly who she was, even if we never crossed paths.”

Eventually, Evans would pack down alongside the tour de force flanker – but not before she’d stepped out of her shadow, out of Yeovil entirely, and into the Test match arena.

Her arrival on the international scene was inauspicious, she admits – almost unnoticeable. She spent two years “silently clutching a pad – so quiet that there are girls I play with now who had no idea I was even in camp. I had potential, but was nowhere near international standard. Even my debut didn’t feel that impactful: I was just throwing myself around – desperately trying to plug the gaps left by injuries.”

What was unmissable that day was the large pink ribbon in the newcomer’s hair. Why? “Because I liked it.” That – and to help her family pick her out: her father is colourblind, and her ‘Nans don’t have a clue who I am without it.”

She’d also attracted the attention of one of the game’s keenest eyes for talent – Alex Austerberry, Saracens Women head coach, who promptly signed the Pontyclun Falcon, and unwittingly brought about a long-awaited first meeting between Evans and Packer.

“All of a sudden, I was playing with Marlie – and she was everything I thought she might be and then more. She was incredible – the first to welcome me in, and caught me up in her energy.”

In every sense – facilities, coaching, standards, and company – the intensity had been cranked right up. Her first impression was, simply: “woah.”

You can’t stay under the radar in an environment like that. You either step up, or get out

“One of the biggest reasons for signing was to challenge myself, but it was really something going from an amateur programme to that.” Day one saw her rub shoulders with Vicky Fleetwood, Rocky Clark, Tamara Taylor, Poppy Cleall, and Rosie Galligan – not to mention a freshly-landed Sophie De Goede. “It was intimidating – a different world.”

Development was inevitable – “you can’t stay under the radar in an environment like that. You either step up, or get out” – catalysed further by professionalism, and a critical, intangible ingredient.

“Belief was the final piece of the puzzle. Alex trusted me: I started in the back row most of that season, even with all the riches at his disposal, and – gradually – believed I could be something more than a spare part who could hit rucks.”

There was nothing ‘spare’ about her: she became indispensable – versatile, robust, and a potent blend of intensity and accuracy. Evans has worn every jersey across Sarries’ back five, and featured in all but two matches of their last title tilt – when she made 90% of her 250 tackle attempts – whilst conspiring to beat 22 defenders. National coaches lapped up her progress, and have selected her for every Six Nations she’s been fit for – plus two World Cups.

It’s a story of triumph, but – just ask Greta – no good narrative is complete without an antagonist. In this case, the villains are Saracens themselves. All in black, horrendous to play against, and embracing their Machiavellian reputation more than ever – with each flattened teddy bear (Bears) and battered shark fillet (Sale).

It’s exactly that: we’re all walking contradictions. As a club – we’re consciously leaning into that “bad guy” tag – whilst priding ourselves on this place’s family feel.

How does she marry the disconnect between the warmth with which she discusses life in North London – and the fact they’re currently club rugby’s most vociferously booed pantomime villains?

“It’s exactly that: we’re all walking contradictions. As a club – we’re consciously leaning into that “bad guy” tag – whilst priding ourselves on this place’s family feel. We know who we really are, that everyone here feels welcome.”

She’s fascinated by this – and has even conducted her own research: speaking to Saracens, past and present, about their experiences. People readily admit they were expecting a hyper competitive, hostile environment, but – “straight away – those perceptions change. You have to find your home, in sport and in life – and so many find theirs here.

“It was an instant fit for me.” She laughs. “I was like ‘wow. Does that mean I’m big and bad?”’

The wickedness is up for debate, but Evans’ influence has never been louder than it was at the World Cup – when her response to one of the tournament’s few dark days was instantly enshrined, alongside Gloria’s monologue, in glorious pink canon.

As the adrenaline of a heavy defeat to Canada wore off, a handful of the Wales side were peeping over the digital parapet, and “taking the sting out of the online reaction together, in a safe space.

There I am getting heat for wearing a pink bow – whilst she’s getting it for looking too masculine. In some people’s eyes – we just can’t win.

“I clocked the first comment on my appearance, and then realised there were two, three, four, a pile of them: telling me I looked like a man in drag, or that I should concentrate more on my rugby than my eyelashes… I could go on.”

As she realised how widespread the discourse was, the impossibility of the situation dawned on her. Her partner, Hannah Botterman, “had received a tonne of abuse just the previous week for the same superficial reason. There I am getting heat for wearing a pink bow – whilst she’s getting it for looking too masculine. In some people’s eyes – we just can’t win.”

She’d planned to brush off the ignorance, and move on with her campaign – but knew silence wouldn’t cut it.

“I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of young girls seeing me get rubbish like that, and then detecting a shift in what I do or who I am – or just seeing me accept it. They needed to know that I wasn’t going to change as a result. Never.

“I’m me, without apology or filter, all the time – whilst striving to be the best possible athlete, teammate, and person – and that’s because I’ve found my people. I wanted anyone seeing that online storm to know that, if they feel like they have to change to be accepted – then they’ve just not found their space yet.”

So she spoke up – and the ripples became shockwaves, and then a movement.

“I was like ‘what have I done?’ My phone just exploded, but – this time – with positivity.”

I struggled a lot – but that made it all worth it. I’d take all the bad days for that one show of humanity.

With a crunch match against Fijiana to prepare for, she stashed it away – but the following few days meant the world.

Come the captain’s run, Evans was greeted by a little girl, bow in place, who’d waited three hours to present her with a hand-drawn picture. “I was so overwhelmed I could hardly get my words out, which became a theme that weekend…”

Saturday’s stands were a sea of glossy, fluttering pink – a fierce, feminine show of unity.

She pauses.

“I can’t adequately express my gratitude to everyone who was a part of that. It was a really dark, hard World Cup – I struggled a lot – but that made it all worth it. I’d take all the bad days for that one show of humanity.”

Online – the love drowned out the bile, and millions were reminded that – however rugby’s warriors choose to wear their hair, fill their kit, and live their lives – there’s space for them between its four white lines, and for everyone in its stadia.

The messages took over a week to reply to – but she got back to them all.

“As women, we work so hard to put our personalities out there. Our fans follow us as people, as much as they do athletes – and it really matters that they also feel empowered to be themselves.”

There’ll be bows at the StoneX on Sunday – when the Wolfpack play at home for the first time this campaign, and consign last week – a toothless 40-14 loss at Queensholm to Gloucester-Hartpury – to the “best forgotten” pile.

“It’s a new season, post-World Cup: broken bodies, broken minds, and just two weeks training together, but we certainly weren’t expecting that. With how we’d finished last year, and our Cup run, we knew – if we hit our straps – just how much we could bring to the table… and then we couldn’t get a foothold.”

The review was wince-eliciting – unpicking the threads of a tapestry of errors – but there’s nothing quite like a derby, against Harlequins, on home turf, to refocus the mind.

“Some teams would want to follow that performance with something a bit easier – to rebuild the confidence. As Saracens, we want to challenge ourselves – and be forced to come out swinging – especially in a league where there are so many teams now capable of finishing top four. If we want to be in the mix: it’s foot on the throat time.”

There it is again: the Londoners’ trademark abrasiveness, served with a smile – just as Sunday’s bruising work will be delivered with both relish and an immaculate set of lashes.

Expect ribbons in those NW4 stands – but none larger than the one thrashing its way around the field of battle. A beacon for the Evans family, for Georgia Evans herself, and for anyone who might just be looking for a space where they can wear their own figurative pink bow, loud and proud.