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2.8.05
Here She Is...Miss Danbury
By Chris Fara1
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Some people think JonBenet Ramsey is dead – rotting away in some garbage dump out West. But she’s right here, preparing to strut down a stage in Ballroom East of the Ethan Allen Inn, Danbury, Connecticut. Of course this girl’s just a cheap knock off, another glamorous Curley Sue sporting cowboy boots and glitter on a catwalk, but the hair bears an uncanny resemblance. Surely America’s fetish child might have looked exactly like this six-year-old, and she might have even competed here at America’s East Coast Princess 2004 Grand National Holiday Pageant.
The scene looks more like a Halloween party than the Miss America show. Contrary to what some folks might think, the amateur pageant league isn’t all glamour and glitz (though there is a fair amount of glitz). On this occasion, the rented space is only a thousand square feet, which would barely fit Miss Alabama’s hair team – but showbiz is showbiz. There’s just a flimsy partition separating the audience and the changing area, but the kids are decked like they’re about to emerge from velvet curtains. The stage is as temporary as the event, but the contestants walk like they’re on the red carpet at the Oscars.
Families trekked here from New England and beyond for a shot at one of many awards up for grabs. The day begins at 10 a.m. with the Baby Miss (0-23 months), Toddler Miss (2-3 years) and Tiny Miss (4-7 years) contestants. The teens will show this afternoon, but in the morning round, there are just nine contestants: two babies, two toddlers, three tinys and two boys competing for Little Master. There are several trophies at stake in each age bracket of the competition, which gives all children – chubby and anemic, cute and foul, rich and poor – a chance to go home with something shiny.
The 2004 Holiday National committee solicits a $205 registration fee that buys entry into the beauty competition, for which the ultimate prize is the title of East Coast Princess. However, for an extra $25 per topping, parents can add some fun to their pageant pizza pie. Amongst the optional sideshows are Fashion Wear, Outfit of Choice and Holiday Wear – all of which provide kids with opportunities to model their new gear.
Some parents, like Michelle Balzano, are here to take all. She’s a do-it-yourself pageant mom who drove two hours from the Garden State for her four-year-old Francisco’s Connecticut debut. Balzano coaches her kids, sews their outfits from scratch and even drives the tour bus. Her daughter, Naisha Correa, is Miss Teen New Jersey by American Queen Pageant rankings, and Balzano has little doubt that her son will dominate in Danbury. After 15 pageants in five years, she’s as comfortable as she is confident. Even though Francisco is in a crisp tuxedo, which she made by hand, Balzano’s wearing a sweatshirt and jeans, which were made by The Gap. She says, “the kids love the competition – they take after me,” before chasing her son down to practice his routine.
Balzano’s not the only stylist who transformed a couch and two tables into a salon. There are several kids in rhinestone jackets getting dolled up, which isn’t the typical scene at the Ethan Allen Inn. The hotel is a subsidiary of a furniture retailer, whose headquarters are located across the parking lot. It’s primarily a business hotel, so it’s likely that the only people who ever come here this scantily clad are hired by the hour. The place isn’t bad though – just another $89 a night joint with free continental breakfast. There’s enough patterned carpet and floral wallpaper to turn a stomach, and the ballrooms are filled with those armless, brass, padded chairs with the handle on top. On the surface it’s the perfect location for a software conference, but this Thanksgiving weekend it’s an inn fit for a queen.
A lot of activity goes down between arrival and commencement. Makeup is caked on, clip-on ponytails are affixed and fake tans are applied. Some mothers prep their own kids, while others employ an entourage of grandparents, siblings and handlers. Lilliannette Rodriguez, a 10-year pageant veteran who currently holds the title of Miss Greater Waterbury, is here as the coach of Brenda Nicole Latorre, a Tiny Miss hopeful who’s competing for the first time. Rodriguez says, “my favorite part is meeting people from far away who come and join us,” but her actions speak louder. She hurriedly coaches Latorre through a complicated dance number, making sure the seven-year-old is comfy with her star shaped sunglasses and high heels before stepping into the arena.
The ballroom is plain – void of the festive artifacts that one might expect at such a gala. Chances are that the workers who unfolded the judge’s table and unstacked the chairs probably had no clue that princesses would soon be crowned beneath the generic chandeliers. There are no posters, signs or banners that would indicate why these tikes in dapper diapers are going neck and neck. The makeshift disc jockey brought the CD player and speakers in a gym bag, and the podium is crooked. If there weren’t toddlers dressed like cowboys and hookers pirouetting on stage, this could just as easily be a motivational seminar or an AA meeting with club music.
The
first parade begins promptly at 10 a.m., when the children make their
grand entrance together. The youngest ones come out with a parent, who
steers the kid on the catwalk. One small girl is accompanied by her father,
who looks like a pedophilic pimp in the mix of mini miniskirts. The boy
competing against Francisco is petrified, and has to literally be pushed
across stage by his dad, who appears to have as much enthusiasm for pageantry
as his son. More than anyone else, the babies have no clue why people
are staring and clapping. The father of Grace LaBruno, a one-year-old
in a wedding dress, says it’s not his daughter’s first pageant.
He has the silk-screened iron on t-shirt with her picture and title to
back up his claim, but Grace hasn’t lived up to her stage name quite
yet.
After the introduction, during which contestants flaunt their formal wear,
the creative guns come out blazing. Most of these kids have faced off
before, but the parents have acquired new outfit arsenals since they last
met. Costumes are essential for the little ones, as talent isn’t
a factor until age seven. For the kids it’s mostly bells and whistles,
which are sometimes literally bells and whistles that are affixed to the
outfits. They also have to deliver some personality in order to win, which
for the babies could be as simple as crapping their pants and smiling.
Italya Bello, a rookie one-year-old on the circuit, shows off her Christmas tree getup during Outfit of Choice. Francisco Balzano, already the clear winner over his whining opposition, steps up in chaps and draws twin plastic revolvers on the crowd. A large woman announces the contestants and struggles to keep kids from tripping on the mic chord, while the judges fill their scorecards and converse between rounds. Most parents are afraid to approach the table, where judges hold not only the results, but also the plastic crowns to match.
The America’s East Coast Princess organization doesn’t leave big decisions to just anybody. Most people know Debbie Malick as a property manager, but in the pageant world she’s a renaissance queen with years of experience. She sings, dances, judges, and has even showcased her talents at Walt Disneyworld. Malick’s most prestigious prize came in 1997, when she earned the sash for Miss Connecticut Octoberfest. She takes her weekend job seriously, and refuses to say anything about the contestants in limbo. Malick does say, “it’s a lot of fun for all the girls,” which is a comment that fits right in with the picture that pageant parents like to paint.
Jamie Costello, whose daughter Haleigh is Little Miss Quinnipiac Valley and Little Miss Hamden, CT, is in it for the social experience. She says, “I enjoy how we get to meet a lot of people and travel…it’s a lot of fun…my daughter’s made a lot of new friends.” Costello’s met a slew of acquaintances over the past year, in which Haleigh has entered and placed in ten pageants. Every trip is a family affair, with Haleigh’s grandmother and brother in tow for the festivities. Costello’s mother agrees that the social dynamic is important, but also says, “the final ceremonies are just overwhelming.”
When the curtains go down there’s an agonizing wait for results. First there’s a talent show for the teens, followed by a group dinner and holiday party. The awards breakfast is tomorrow morning, when some lucky girls will get crowned East Coast princesses and celebrate with orange juice. Everyone else will get ribbons, trophies and other less coveted prizes for contests like Fashion and Holiday Wear. In a tradition that’s typically seen at the Special Olympics – every contestant wins something whether or not they defecated during competition. At the end of the day it keeps the kids happy and the parents happier.
Hundreds of these shindigs take place in rented halls across the U.S. each year. They’re hosted by any one of dozens of pageant organizations, each of which carries its own titles and abides by unique rules and sanctions. Did you ever know that Miss USA is a whole different beast from Miss America? Likewise, there are anywhere from four to six Miss Teen New Jerseys according to who you ask and what rankings you go by. Much like the way you’ll never meet a guy who wasn’t on a championship little league team of some sort, it’s unlikely that you’ll ever run into a pageanteer who wasn’t Little Miss something. These events are a mix between karate matches, chess tournaments and youth hockey games – only with less screaming and more lipstick.
As is made evident by reputable news outlets like The Washington Post calling Miss America a “chickfest,” and by ABC’s dropping the country’s oldest pageant from their schedule this year, the outside perception of these contests is hardly flattering. Some of these women have learned how to juggle in their pursuit to end world hunger, but no feat could reverse the prejudices that have been cast against categorized women in swimwear and pumps. The difference between the big leagues and the local contests is the camaraderie amongst these pageant moms, who don’t necessarily deserve the reputation of hating the bitch in the dressing room next door.
Like many people who don’t spend their vacation time on the pageant circuit, I’ve always harbored chagrin for parents who showboat their children. Over the years I’ve seen: documentaries about crazed pageant moms, Vanessa Williams lose her crown over some nipples, and of course – the relentless parade of Miss Ramsey, who as far as I can remember was People magazine’s dumbest obsession since Baby Jessica. With all the scandals and bad publicity, it’s no wonder that right thinking Americans tend to think ill of the beauty contest scene; but I realized in just one afternoon that pageants should be experienced before they are criticized. Then they’re fair game, just like every other asinine activity that Americans indulge in.
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Chris FARA1 is a writer living in New York City. He can be reached at fara1andonly@netscape.net.
©
2004 Me Three