Amy Hunt expressed serious concerns that Sydney Sweeney's provocative betting commercial could act as a deterrent for young girls who might otherwise be interested in sport. The advertisement, created for the U.S. betting firm Novig, features the actress from "Euphoria" scantily clad and draped in various pieces of sports equipment.
It has sparked a wave of criticism from women athletes and advocates who argue that it undermines the message of empowerment they strive to promote. Hunt was quick to confront the actress, reminding her that "this is what women in sport look like" after Hunt herself finished fourth in the 200‑metre race at the World Athletics Ultimate Championship in Budapest last weekend. Speaking on Good Morning Britain, Hunt explained why she believes authentic representation matters more than glossy, sexualised imagery. "When we set out to provide role models for young people, especially young women, we want to highlight what the body can achieve rather than how it appears," she said.
"The statistics are stark – roughly 64 % of girls stop participating in sport or regular exercise before they turn 16. We cannot afford to add any extra obstacles that might discourage them from staying active, whether that means training for a professional career or simply joining a local Parkrun with friends." She continued, emphasizing that confidence and participation should not be tied to appearance. "It’s about empowering girls and women to step onto the field, the court, the track, without worrying about their looks or what they’re wearing.
Sport isn’t about looking pretty; it’s about pushing limits, learning resilience, and sometimes dealing with very uncomfortable moments – like vomiting at the side of the track or shedding tears after a grueling training session. Those moments are part of the journey toward becoming the best version of yourself." Hunt’s remarks resonated with other athletes who also condemned the ad.
Former U.S. Olympic gymnast Gracie Kramer posted a video of herself competing, captioning it, "Idk what Sydney Sweeney was doing but this is what a woman in sport looks like." Australian boxing champion Skye Nicolson added on Instagram, "There's a big difference between looking ‘sexy’ because you do sport and using sex to sell sport." In what appeared to be a defensive move, Sweeney shared a series of images from ESPN Magazine’s BODY Issue on her Instagram Stories. The collection showcased nude or minimally clothed portraits of celebrated athletes such as Serena Williams and Megan Rapinoe, perhaps attempting to reframe the conversation around body positivity and athletic achievement.
Hunt believes the wave of positive responses from women in sport has already eclipsed any potential damage caused by the commercial. "The reaction has almost outweighed the moment because the first thing I saw was all of the positive compilations of women in sport," she said.
"It’s actually kind of moved. It’s separated itself from the moment entirely, and it’s not anything personal against that actress. It’s more about the intention behind it, and it’s shifted into a completely different spin now, where we can celebrate women’s sport in many different ways." The broader debate touches on a long‑standing tension between marketing strategies that rely on sexual appeal and the growing demand for authentic, empowering representations of female athletes. Critics argue that ads like Sweeney’s reduce sport to a backdrop for titillation, sending a message that women’s bodies are primarily objects of visual consumption rather than vessels of skill and determination.
Supporters of the ad, however, claim that confidence in one’s own physique and the willingness to be seen can also be empowering, especially when athletes like Williams and Rapinoe have reclaimed their bodies on their own terms. Research in sports psychology consistently shows that role models who demonstrate competence, perseverance, and authenticity have a measurable impact on youth participation rates. When young girls see athletes who look like them and who are celebrated for performance rather than appearance, they are more likely to envision themselves in similar roles. Conversely, when the dominant narrative is filtered through a lens of sexualisation, it can reinforce harmful stereotypes that discourage sustained involvement.
Hunt’s call for “role models” therefore extends beyond individual athletes to include the media, advertisers, and governing bodies that shape public perception. She urges sponsors and broadcasters to prioritize stories that highlight training regimens, personal sacrifice, and the joy of competition, rather than relying on shock value or erotic imagery.
In practical terms, this could mean more coverage of women’s leagues, increased funding for grassroots programs, and advertising campaigns that feature athletes in action—sweating, bruised, and triumphant—rather than posed in stylised, sexualised settings. Such an approach aligns with the goal of reducing the dropout rate among teenage girls and fostering a culture where sport is accessible, inclusive, and celebrated for its intrinsic benefits.
As the conversation continues, many hope that the backlash against the Novig ad will serve as a catalyst for change, prompting brands to rethink how they portray female athletes. For Hunt and her fellow advocates, the ultimate victory will be measured not by the number of likes an ad receives, but by the number of girls who feel inspired to lace up their shoes, join a team, and discover what their bodies are capable of achieving.