For centuries, judges and barristers in England and Wales have come to court under white horsehair wigs and long black gowns. King Charles II started the wig trend in England in the 1660s after admiring the powdered wigs worn in the French court of King Louis XIV, and the solid black robe was introduced upon the king's death in 1685.

But despite the weight of tradition, legal professionals could soon be looking much more modern -- the Lord Chief Justice, Lord Phillips of Worth Matravers, is considering dropping the current formal garb for barristers and judges in civil proceedings.

In the proposed move, which is intended to make the court more consistent with those around the world, the robe might well stay, although they would be replaced with a new, less formal version. But it is believed that the curled wig will likely go, as the chief justice himself has already admitted he prefers his own hair to horsehair.

The Bar Council of England and Wales is conducting an official survey of barristers to see what they prefer, and the Lord Chief Justice is to make his final decision some time afterward, with the new dress code taking effect Jan. 1, 2008. At this point, the Lord Chief Justice is only considering a new dress code for the civil and family courts; criminal court dress will remain as is.

A similar wig-or-no-wig survey of Bar Council members conducted in 2003 concluded that a majority of barristers wanted to keep their fake hair on in civil proceedings, but would take them off for family cases "except for hearings when someone's liberty was at stake," the council said.

Split over Hair

While final results of the survey won't be tallied until mid- to late October, an informal poll by the Bar Council suggests barristers are split down the middle about whether to shed their trappings.

Those who support getting rid of these sartorial holdovers think the court has to get with the times, saying wigs and gowns make them look positively colonial next to their wig-less counterparts in the US and elsewhere. But others say they are proud to be different: The uniform sets them apart from the other court staff, they feel, and establishes a proper, serious tone for court proceedings.

Barrister John Cooper remembers the first time he donned the wig and robe, in 1983 in Wales. "It's like being given your first school uniform," said Cooper, a criminal lawyer at 25 Bedford Row in London. "You're very proud."

Death Knell for an Industry?

Doing away with the wig requirement would certainly be easier on court officials' pocketbooks -- the hairpieces do not come cheap. At Thresher & Glenny Ltd., one of the three big purveyors of handmade legal wigs and gowns on London's Chancery Lane, wig prices start at about £450 (€661). At Stanley Ley Ltd., a judge's full-bottom wig runs at almost £1,700 (€2,498).

In fact, a vote for going wig-less could be a big blow to the companies that serve this niche market. But if they're worried, their British reserve is helping them to keep their concerns largely under wraps.

Ede and Ravenscroft Ltd., which was established in 1689 to serve King William and Queen Mary and still weaves horsehair wigs in-house, declined to comment, other than to say that it has had a long-term relationship with the courts, and it "will be pleased to satisfy their requests" in the future -- whatever they may be.

Trevor Windsor, a salesman at Thresher & Glenny, admits he has a vested interest in the discussion but supports keeping wigs because he doesn't want to see another tradition go away. "I love to see full uniforms marching around," Windsor said wistfully. "There are so few of them left. There seem to be just the hotel doormen these days."

He hopes the legal system will continue to use the wigs as part of the ceremonial tradition for newly minted barristers who have been "called to the Bar." "Maybe we'll sell them a wig and it will sit in a box somewhere," he said.

Wig Wearing Isn't for Sissies

It is not hard to imagine why some would like to bid adieu to a tradition inspired by the dress style of France's ancien régime. It can get sweaty under all that horsehair, not to mention the fact that the barristers usually wear a suit and cap under the gown and wig.

Judges and barristers even risked exposure to anthrax during a recent scare, Cooper said. Humans have been known to contract the deadly bacteria through infected horsehair as far back as the 19th century. "We're hearty beasts, we barristers," Cooper said, tongue firmly planted in cheek. "We decided we would risk anthrax for the good of justice."

Cooper wants to keep the formal dress in place in all cases for two reasons. He says the uniform ensures that the jury focuses on the merits of the argument, not what the lawyers are wearing. And secondly, he said it preserves anonymity for the legal professionals, who could be threatened for participating in controversial cases if recognized outside of court.

He also points out that the wig and gown is quite popular with the public. "I find it strange there is a big debate," he said. "The public actually likes the wig -- they think it adds gravitas to the court proceedings."

The issue has highlighted a sore spot among professionals in the British court system. Solicitors, who like barristers can represent clients in lower courts but cannot plead in higher courts, have long said the fact that they cannot wear wigs in court makes them feel inferior to their white-topped colleagues. They want to see the wigs go.