The blue tulle dress in the clear plastic bag sat placed on the seat next to them with a small pair of nude heels sitting on top. It was a lot of fabric for not a lot of girl. Rebecca, a princess for today, was perched on the edge of a folding chair skimming the thin pages of Cosmo. Her mother’s oversized designer sunglasses were framed by bleach blonde tendrils all of which had been carefully placed, as today marked an important occasion. It was the day of the Tiny Miss Beauty Pageant and all the way from South Carolina was reigning regional champion Rebecca Mint and her mother.
The duo had been up for five hours in their flickering fluorescent hotel room doing Rebecca’s heat-treated hair and show makeup. A compact resemblance of her mother, the six year old wore thick eyelashes and contouring on her cheeks to unnaturally elongate her round face. Her two day old healthy-looking spray tan appeared natural except in the crease of her elbow, where showed signs of wearing. On her petite frame she wore a silky deep scarlet ball gown cut low with a thin string of pearls around her neck.
Her blonde curled hair perched piled on top of her head, kept intact by a nest of bobby pins that dug into her skin if she moved her head too far to one side. Sitting carefully as not to wrinkle the dress, she used her finger to trace over the magazine articles framed by skinny, perfectly proportioned models gazing longingly into the distance and her colored lips, pursed like the women in the pictures, to sound out the big words like “promiscuity” and “sex appeal”. “Momma, did you put away the spray? I think I need more,” Rebecca asked as she pulled at her hairspray stiff curls.
Her mother glanced up from her phone and, through the glazed over sunglasses, eyed her daughter’s hair. “Baby yous fine, yous gorgeous,” she gushed, “Jus’ don’t play with it too much or you’ll muss it. ” “Can we get some breakfast before I go on? ” The clock on the wall stated quarter of 12. “I told you already, we’ll pick somethin’ up when you’re finished on stage,” her mother reminded her. “Yeah, I know but I’m hungry now,” Rebecca said softly. “Rember when you tried on your dress the other day, how tight it was on your waist? You don’t want to look bloated on stage, now do you honey? Neither the plastic sunglasses moved nor did the curls, “But there’s a bottle of water in my purse if you wont that. ”
Rebecca’s eyes shifted back down the magazine, neither of them moved any further. Breaking their silence the door into the hallway slid open. Other girls started arriving in rainbows of sequined costumes, tottering on kitten heels specially ordered to fit small feet, and with them the smell of acetone and aerosol. For most of the girls today this was exciting, they’ve worked so hard, and today on stage for a few minutes they have the honor of showing the audience what beautiful means.
But their posture and solemnity shows that they’re not new at being pretty. They’ve learned not to complain too loudly after an hour or two of dance rehearsal, and how to cry without shaking when getting eyebrows, legs, arms all waxed gorgeously silky smooth. Rebecca’s mother stood and handed her daughter a folder full of glamour headshots and lifted the blue dress from the seat. “Be sure to hand these directly to the judges, and don’t forget your smile! ” She reminded her. Rebecca shifted off her chair and, keeping her spine straight and shoulders back, made her way to the end of the colorful line.
An attendant with a clipboard, towering over the little girls, spoke to Rebecca’s mother, “Excuse me ma’am, if you could please head out to the audience. ” As she was walking down the hallway she caught Rebecca’s eye, and gave her a short smile. “You’re clearly the most beautiful honey, you’ll do great! ” The dark plastic sunglasses were a mirror for Rebecca to see her done up face and elegant dress. She smiled at her mother and gave a little elegant wave. Making her way to the rows of metal folding chairs Rebecca’s mother checked her phone.
She sat in the second row, surrounded by mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers, all equal parts excited and irritable. Sitting with her legs crossed she shushed the much too noisy families as the lights dimmed. The back wall of the stage was lined with a thick black curtain that shifted when anyone walked behind it. The families settled into their folding chairs when a yellow spotlight hit stage left, where a beautiful, tall woman with curled hair and a pink sash on an emerald dress stood behind the podium.
Her white gloved hand held a index card, off which her glossed lips read an announcement, “Good afternoon, and welcome to the Tiny Miss Beauty Pageant! Thank you all for coming out today, quite a host of gorgeous girls are waiting backstage! ” She cleared her throat and smiled as the black fabric behind her moved, “Now before w we begin with the introductions, I regret to inform you that one of our contestants must recall from today’s show due to a medical emer– illness, an illness–” The woman was cut off by a thin hand parting the black curtain.
From behind the fabric and into the spotlight out stepped a hunched over girl, another dolled-up model. The girl’s auburn updo was frizzy and pins dropped to the floor as she staggered forward on bare and calloused feet. With a hacking cough she doubled over, spat gobs of thick red blood onto the linoleum stage. Her form fitting dress with side cutouts to show off her eight year old figure displayed too, too much, her painted orange skin stretched too, too thin over a ribcage and concave stomach.
As she looked up at the whole captivated, silent audience they saw her face, how the skin around her brows was burnt by too hot wax, and skin peeling away. Her pupils were dilated and her eyes reddened under the light. The child dropped to the floor with a light thud as a small sigh escaped her heavily padded chest. A red-faced mother sprang from behind the curtain and gathered her daughter into her arms, and ran her offstage. The beautiful woman behind the podium cleared her throat.