FYI: Why do Hong Kong's judges still wear those funny wigs?

The solemn black gowns and cumbersome curled wigs that perch atop the heads of Hong Kong's barristers and judges represent one of the more curious anomalies of the local legal system - all the more so since the government is one of the few to stick to a tradition being abandoned even in its country of origin.

Later this year, judges hearing civil and family cases in England and Wales will trade in the wigs and robes that have dominated courtrooms for more than 300 years for sleeker, more flattering outfits crafted by designer Betty Jackson. Judges in former British colonies are also queuing up to join the bareheaded brigade; nine out of 13 on the bench of the New South Wales Court of Appeal in Australia recently voted to scrap wigs for all but ceremonial occasions. So why are legal professionals in Hong Kong so keen to hang on to garments that are uncomfortable, outdated and rather silly looking?

First, a quick primer on legal wigs - British judges started wearing them in the 17th century, a time when they were part of contemporary fashion - and a wig-adorned head was less susceptible to lice. As they were back then, today's wigs are made from horsehair, making them very heavy, hard to maintain and very expensive - a brand new one, ordered from one of a dwindling number of specialist boutiques in London, can cost up to GBP2,500 (HK$38,690). Even so, many of the most senior figures in the Hong Kong legal profession see them as a vital accessory.

This has much to do with the jitters that accompanied Hong Kong's handover to China in 1997. The judicial independence of the city is enshrined in the Sino-British Joint Declaration, which gives Hong Kong the right to apply English common law until 2047. But treaties aside, the months before the handover saw the international media and commentators unleashing a torrent of dire predictions about the fate of Hong Kong courts under mainland rule. There were rumours that Beijing would meddle in judicial proceedings, Hong Kong would be forced to reintroduce the death penalty and judges would no longer be able to refer to British cases. Just prior to the handover, The New York Times warned that wigs and robes would soon diasappear from Hong Kong's courts.

That never happened, of course.

The wigs reminded residents and investors alike of Hong Kong's common law inheritance and independence. While some have said the headgear has no place in today's Hong Kong, many others have called for it to stay.

In a recent interview, Andrew Li Kwok-nang, chief justice of the Court of Final Appeal, admitted judicial wigs were 'controversial' but also a 'great symbol' of the continuity of common law and the dignity of the courts. Bar Association chairman Rimsky Yuen Kwok-keung has also argued that Hong Kong's court dress 'is a way of telling the world that Hong Kong is still sticking to the British common-law system after the handover'.

So the wigs are likely to stay for the time being - at least that's what Ludlows, an Australian maker of court-related finery, seems to be betting. Late last year the firm introduced a local wig-cleaning service for the city's court community. Given Hong Kong's sweltering summertime heat and humidity, which can wreak havoc on horsehair, the firm should soon be doing a roaring trade.