Tuesday 21 February 2012

Mirror, Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?

Long ago I watched beauty pageants in a state of wonder, dazzled by all the glitter. shimmering dresses and flashing lights; long spiky eyelashes and equally long and lustrous black, brown, blond, you name it coloured hair; tall, slender females on stilts.

And no-o-w from the Apollo theatre in A-thens let’s welcome the contestants; Miss USA! (Usually from Texas); Miss Singapo-o-ore! (a definite finalist); Miss A-a-r-rgentina! (a favourite); Miss Venezuela (born to win) and Czechoslovakia, Ukraine, Sweden ....

They all vied for Miss World or Miss Universe and later Miss International, Miss Earth and quite a few others. Participants floated onto the stage, waving their hands just beside their heads and smiling non-stop to take their spots. But for the peacock dress which featured almost each year, I imagined myself in all the stunning drapery even though people from my continent were hardly visible on that platform at the time. That was like in the 70s? The world pageants are now truly international affairs in which all continents including mine are represented. The consequences of this “internationalization” of staged beauty for whatever reason is what is threatening my childhood love for pageants.
                                                                                                                       
From the national contests that feed into the world event to those inspired by regional celebrations, traditional festivals, and yet still school based contests, beauty pageants have taken on a life of their own in my country. Indeed Ninos (new comers) nights in some secondary schools in Ghana are now sporting the event as a main attraction. In this case the main beneficiaries are the senior boys who challenge each other to win the “trophy” and subsequently monitor the list of “been to’s”.
The events have kept the spirit and drama of earlier world pageants intact; eyelash extensions that would cause damage on more delicate skin; thin to the bones figures and best of all long, straight pony-tail hair that reach to the protruding section of the behind. The hair is usually purchased at great cost from the stables; the rubber factory or someplace else I don’t want to imagine. Unless there is a prize for presenting as a Black Chinese, Blonde Black, or Black anything else not related to origin, I am not at all sure why the exertions. But then again, what do I know? The only snag in the copycat series so far is the saying something bit to which a rich variety of LAFA (you really should know what it stands for by now- Locally Acquired Foreign Accent) is being attended.  Those are the moments I turn the TV off and imagine how many Oyibos are being entertained at that particular time.

Thankfully current Miss Whatever’s seem to be picking on the thrust of collegiate contests which featured more brain battles and less skin. Personality and Intelligence for example first became part of the evaluation of Miss World contests in 1980 after 30 years. Vital statistics was also said to have been downgraded that year. The Miss World contest now runs the Beauty with a Purpose program. There are also titles such as Congeniality, Best National Costume and a few other newfangled ones to be won on the Miss Universe contest. Offcourse these attempts to de-objectify women do not wash with feminists groups who last bared their teeth in 2011 at the Miss World finals in London saying the contests reduce women to the sum of their parts.

At home the likes of My Village’s* Most Beautiful are making a good effort to highlight aspects of the female beyond her physical contours. What can I say? I am filling in some history and loving it! A young woman had to spoil my fun not too long ago on the show though. She was asked the capital of the region she was representing. Before she answered, I was like haaba! That’s easypeazy and unfair to others lining up for the audition. Clad in blue tights and the “traditional” pony tail, a Chinese bob in front and a dash of blue paint to match and block heels in which she could hardly take coordinated steps, she managed a catwalk quite like a hen about to drop an egg. Let’s just say her answer surprised me.
Later, I wondered. Could it be the interviewer got it wrong? Should the question have been along the lines of “who is Britney Spears?” After all these are all “Miss World” hopefuls.  

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