Toddlers in Tiaras? My Life as a Baby Beauty Pageant Judge

One of cable televisions' most popular "reality" (and I use that term loosely) programs highlights that only-in-America past time, toddler and youth beauty programs. Actually, the show's catchy title doesn't even begin to capture the realm of young girls - literally from infants through the age of twelve - who passed before my eyes, posing and asking for my favor, during the course of the six months I served as a pageant judge.

Your first question would logically seem to be that of my qualifications. An excellent question, I say! And one to which I have no valid answer. I am the mother of two wonderful daughters, both now in college, both very pretty in very different ways. One worked as a Wilhelmina model for a number of months, on the catwalks, sidewalks, in empty warehouses and private nightclubs used for photo shoots; she modeled in print and on live television, with many of her 'feeds' running for several months in over one hundred countries. But HER beauty, success and special qualities - she's well over six feet tall and slender - in no way qualified me to be a judge of others' beauty.

I was actually begged to judge my first pageant at the request of a very good friend, to fill in for a judge who had called in absent for a week long pageant being held in Cherry Hill, New Jersey. She and her mother were pageant judges, which was somewhat surprising. Both were practitioners of yoga, strict vegetarians, huge fans of Frank Sinatra and his music, and quite spiritual people. Both were, by the way, also physically very striking women, with wonderfully high cheekbones, awesome skin and hair, and huge eyes. Interestingly enough, my friend's only daughter never, ever competed on the pageant circle, and neither had my friend. Her mother had won a pageant many moon ago, and thus 'graduated' over time into a judge, a 'job' passed down to my friend as well over time.(Perhaps it was a mother-daughter bonding thing?) In short, we had no real 'certification', association, affiliation or ANYTHING that I thought would qualify us as beauty pageant judges, other than the fact that we were sober and ambulatory. You would be surprised to find out that MANY judges have the same qualifications as I. Occasionally, you will find a former pageant winner herself who will serve as a judge. Having won a competition really doesn't qualify you for judging others.

I had no clue as to what was expected of me as a pageant judge, but the opportunity was too good to turn down. While we received $20 - yes, $20 - compensation for our services during the weekend, our three meals a day were free. (I should have known it would be a real caper when my friend stressed over and over again the free food from the hotel where the pageant was being held.)

I'm going to focus on the first pageant since, quite honestly, it's the one that I remember the best, and the one that the others pretty much followed in pattern and substance. After a while, one blurred into another, and yet another...

We arrived at the hotel bright and early on Saturday morning. There were five of us serving as judges: my friend, her mother, myself, a gentleman who was apparently a fixture on the pageant circuit although I could never figure out exactly how or why, and an older woman who had a take-no-prisoners demeanor. She took this judging thing very seriously, which I discovered, somewhat to my horror, also did my friend and her mom. We were seated next to each other at a long table facing the stage. At each seat was a pile of papers: programs, biographies and photos of contestants neatly arranged in order of age (and thus appearance) in the pageant. Some of the 'bios' were a page long, photocopies, really. Others were print outs that had the young lady's picture - either in black and white, or in color, posted at eye level on her biography/narrative. There was also a rather alarming number of actual BOOKLETS for quite a few of the girls, listing her previous awards, hobbies, achievements, likes and dislikes (long on the 'likes', not so much their 'dislikes'), plus full page, 8 1/2 x 11 inch color photographs of the girl spread throughout her booklet. They were actually mini resumes, and quite fascinating at that. You'd be surprised at how many four and five year old girls have competed in twenty or thirty pageants - or more! - before they reach kindergarten age, and how loosely and freely the terms 'princess' and 'queen' were bandied about. While it was undoubtedly unfair, I found myself much more interested in reading the booklets than the one-page blurbs that were presented to us, the judges.

There were at least eighty girls in this particular pageant, ranging in age from infants to eleven and twelve year olds. The infants were, of course, easiest and quickest to be judged, as their 'performance' consisted of being paraded across the stage by their mothers, while dressed in very fancy, frilly and colorful coordinated outfits. Babies who had no hair sported big, flowery headbands and hats to compensate. Little feet that had not yet walked across a floor were clad in tights or fancy socks and shiny Mary Janes. As each little lady made her appearance, we were to advised to take notes, which I dutifully did. After all of the babies had made their quest for the gold, each of us judges wrote down, in order of 'favor', who our top three winners were. Of course, there were disparencies: my friend didn't have any of her choices matching those of the rest of us, so a brief, hushed conference was held among us. Older Lady was the head judge, and as such took our choices under advisement before the final 3 'winners' were announced in the infant division. Frankly, it was just a question of which of the babies met the ephemeral standards of a bunch of judges, several of whom hadn't even met that day: The winner was a cross between the "prettiest" baby (i.e., had hair, a minimal amount of drool, didn't wail pitifully, and even managed a hint of a smile) and the best-dressed child.

The older contestants followed this format: Within their age groups, each was introduced to us and the audience in their 'formal'/glamor wear (a dress varying in degrees of tackiness to semi-couture). After each had been introduced individually, each then waited patiently in a row on stage for their 'interview': an unscripted response to an age-appropriate question ('What's your favorite subject in school?' 'What are your hobbies?' 'How do you like to spend your free time?' 'What do you hope to be when you grow up?'). Finally, each girl made a final, individual appearance in her talent portion of the judging, which included singing, playing an instrument (the piano was always very popular), dancing (extremely popular, and almost always to a current 'hit' song), a dramatic rendering on occasion. I do remember one little girl who did bird calls, and another whose talent was the Rubik's Cube. Swear to God.)

Each day of the weekend pageant was really long for both the contestants and the judges. I remember by late Sunday afternoons feeling literally emotionally exhausted. From each age group, we had to select the top three girls, and after a while, sometimes, they literally kind of blurred together for us. I always took copious notes to keep track of who was who ('shiny red dress', 'long curly black hair', 'messed up on her piano piece', 'way too much makeup').

If you've followed either the television show 'Toddlers 'N Tiaras', have taken part in youth beauty pageants yourself, or are the parent or relative of a young lady who did or does, perhaps some of this will sound very familiar. But I will tell you what perhaps you may have suspected all along.

The prettiest girl always wins.

It doesn't matter if a child speaks five languages, has saved a life on a subway track, plays cello at the university postgraduate level, or has won an Olympic medal. If she doesn't have 'the look', she won't win the prize. And everyone's idea of physical 'beauty' is different - and that's not a bad thing in and of itself.

This was consistently true throughout the competitions. I'm not saying that this is fair. On the other hand, to play devil's advocate for the moment, these ARE youth 'beauty pageants', where a premium is placed on a child's physical appearance. There's a reason why JonBenet Ramsay won as many competitions as she did during her short, sad life: she was a naturally very pretty little girl, by many standards.

Some parting advice: Don't try to 'butter up' the judges. We will actually hold it against you (and your child) for such blatant pandering. We have an awful lot of notes to make, as well as decisions: each of us carries our own definition of what defines 'beauty', and many a heated debate takes place amongst judges who favor one girl over another. The use of 'flippers', heavy eye shadow, garish lipstick all come into play in a judge's initial impression of a child, and it's true that a person's first physical impression is a lasting one. There is still something that rankles in the heart of any adult to see a young child molded into looking like a somewhat slutty, tartish woman: it's just not right. My friend and I sought out those girls who had NATURAL beauty, something that just stands out: there's no denying it. You know it when you see it, although it's hard to put into words.

Try to have at least a modicum of dignity. And common courtesy and frankly, respect. Don't make disparaging remarks about the other contestants, whether in earshot of the judges, other audience members or, heaven forbid, the children themselves. If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Your mother was right.

Clean yourself up, parents. You may have spent thousands on your daughter's wardrobe; the least you can do at the actual competition is get out of baggy sweatpants, stained sweatshirts, and wash your own hair. This is a public event, after all. Bringing along a huge 'cheering section' is not going to improve your child's chances of winning. She will stand or fall on her own merits.

After nearly a year of serving as a judge at youth beauty competitions in the New Jersey/Delaware/Pennsylvania area, I had had enough. It was mentally, physically and emotionally draining work. There is nothing like the look of disappointment on the face of a young girl who didn't win to leave a person with literally nightmares and a sense of bad karma that's hard to wash away. I saw parents who could barely afford to pay their transportation costs to a pageant spend thousands of dollars on a glamor dress that would be worn once, perhaps twice, at the most. It became depressing to deal with the parents - both moms and dads - of girls who didn't win after a competition was over. Just a thought here: If it was hard, so very hard, for your daughter to lose the competition, please, please be supportive of her efforts and offer up the praise that she deserves. After all, pageant life is not for the faint of heart.