Over the last two years my interest in pageants has dwindled. I have found them to be terribly Eurocentric and disempowering to women in general. Think about it; do we really need to see a bunch of girls parade in bikinis, with the supposedly best flowing hair in a quest to end world hunger or whatever their platform may be? I think not.
Pageants pressure women and suggest that there is an ideal beauty standard in a world where women often struggle to find appreciation as it relates to their bodies and general appearance. They are almost as disturbing as the idea that finding a husband and having children are the ultimate factors that determine womanhood, that society still cons women into believing. The world would be a better place without them.
However, this year by hook or by crook I had to tune in to watch Miss Universe and for me that meant watching it through a video call via my little sister’s television. I was desperate to see if Miss Guyana was going to end the drought of this country not placing at Miss Universe, as has happened in the Miss World pageant – it was the nationalist in me. I also felt that given the controversial beauty standards that surround pageants, Miss Jamaica with her striking and authentic self is perhaps the change we desperately need to see in pageantry.
