Treading a typically fine line between the stylish and ostentatious, the Williams sisters steam into Wimbledon this year with fire in their eyes and gold in their rackets.

Venus and Serena are not so much signalling their comeback as restoring the sister act that all their rivals should fear. The fact that each of their Wilson rackets has 22-carat gold leaf laid into the frame is a somewhat derivative gesture — Michael Johnson made a similar assertion of his own supremacy when he ran at the Sydney Olympics in gold spikes — but the restoration of the Williams threat is real indeed.

While Venus possesses the greater grasscourt polish, Serena has the rough edges to rip the women’s draw apart. Trailing her older sister by three Wimbledon titles to two, she also has a fearsome hunger, as evinced by her destruction of Maria Sharapova in the Australian Open final with an exhibition of brutal, near unplayable hitting.

Then, Serena’s inspiration was drawn from deep, from a terrible sadness at the murder of her sister Yetunde in Los Angeles four years ago. Back at Wimbledon, the scene of her most emphatic triumphs, this layer of emotional trauma is likely to inspire more defiant displays on court.

As a personality, Serena is not easily categorised. Just as comfortable trading ribald witticisms with Jonathan Ross as she is nailing down her latest fashion deal, she is a force of nature who functions only at hurricane speed. You can see why such a character, by turns sweetly coquettish and snarlingly streetwise, remains beloved of the glamour magazines.

But beyond the Chanel perfume, the Harry Winston diamonds — and yes, those gold rackets — Serena has a keen desire to be judged on her tennis. Fashion statements, she insists, will be restricted to the motif of traditional Wimbledon white, as she channels her new-found resolve into her pursuit of the third Rosewater Dish that would assuage the sibling rivalry with Venus.

Not that Serena would understate the menace posed by her sister, whose return to the Wimbledon stage has been complicated by a recurrent wrist injury since her stirring win over Lindsey Davenport in the 2005 final. “With her return, her serve, her volleys, I think Venus is the best grasscourt player in the draw. She’s my sister, I love her dearly, but I try to focus on this side of the street.

Serena’s tendency to aggrandise herself in these terms stems, it seems, from a total imperviousness to pressure. Commentators can attach any amount of supposed significance to her Wimbledon challenge — the weight of history, the open-top cathedral of Centre Court, the introduction of equal prize money — yet none of it will make any difference if and when she serves for the Championship.

The personal and professional nadir she endured since her last Wimbledon victory in 2003 is reduced to irrelevance. Not even the allegations of over-eating, the foray into reality television, or the open letter from Chris Evert warning her of a tarnished legacy could square with the serene Serena we see today.