Swimmer, too heavy for a short skirt of her own, she said. Her sister was the cheerleader, but she was a My mother, having always been a little to a lot overweight, excelledĪt swimming, and she told me much later that she chose swimming because sheĭidn’t feel fat in the water. Time from the same man, my father, she sat with me and gave her own runningĬommentary about who was cute, who smiled too much, who would find a handsome Who wants to hear a sonata? Dance for me, bounce your bootie. Lips, an extra point for smartness, subtraction of a point for playing the Points for unpainted nails, fewer points for big noses, fewer points for skinny Over the years,Īn increasingly complex system of points and penalties evolved: an extra pointįor being tan, a loss of points for sucking up, more points for breasts, more Of the contestants ribbed themselves along the x axis-beauty, poise, swimsuit,Įvening gown-plus categories of my own-hair, likability, teeth. Out in ink, sometimes over and over, names of all 50 states, Washington, D.C.,Īnd Puerto Rico along the y axis of my paper. In the hours before the show began, I’d carefully written In hand, thrilled at the oncoming parade of the most beautiful women in the Threatened my attention to the television set, I sat with popcorn and soda, pen My parents’ smoky living room where the carpet, a collage of white, brown, andīlack mixed-shag, contrasted so loudly with the cheap 70s furnishings that it From my viewing seat on a green striped couch in So that I might also participate as an independent judge of the most importantīeauty contest in the world. Pageant, I, from the age of seven or so, carefully laid out an elaborate chart On one hand, this essay is an examination of beauty pageants and the awkward system of values and beliefs that surround them on the other, it is an intimate look at a mother/daughter relationship defined by the social goings-on of a small city in the middle of America.Įvery evening of the annual broadcast of the Miss America Cindy Bosley, a teacher, and published poet is brave enough to share her early attempts at dealing with this pressure. But nearly everyone has experienced the angst associated with the quiet pageantry of everyday life-the constant pressure to perform well in public, to look the part of a happy, stable, well-to-do member of society. Most people have never participated in a beauty pageant. This is how I lost the junior miss pageant. How I Lost the Junior Miss Pageant Cindy Bosley