MY PAGEANT DAYS WERE SHORT but I have great memories. I begged my mom to let me compete in our Miss Tippah County pageant. It was a preliminary to the Miss Mississippi pageant. I told my mom, “Mom, I think I can win Miss Tippah County, and I want to see what Miss Mississippi is all about.” She was worried about the time it would take to get ready for Miss Tippah, and, heaven forbid, what if I won both that and Miss Mississippi and needed to prepare for Miss America?
“Mom,” I told her, “I’m a rookie. No rookie has ever won Miss Mississippi, but I do want to go and see what it’s like and see if I can hold my own.”
“Why not wait until next year when you aren’t so busy?” she asked.
“I think it would actually be easier to do it this year when I am so busy.”
Mom agreed to let me enter the Miss Tippah County pageant, and by the time I won, she could have been a certified pageant pro. She had her sights set on Miss Mississippi. She had researched and knew who was the best at everything. My evening gowns came from Ann Northington, who dressed the current Miss Alabama turned Miss America. “There is a lady in Vicksburg that makes everyone’s swimsuits,” she said. “She even has four-ply tummy control.”
“Are you saying I’m fat?”
“No. But if you can buy a swimsuit with four-ply tummy control, then you buy the swimsuit with four-ply tummy control.” Now, those are words to live by!
“Oh, and I talked to Ms. Brenda, and her daughter JJ is coming over to show you how to use Firm Grip on the bottom of your swimsuit so your suit doesn’t ride up and packing tape on your top so your cleavage looks nice and full.”
Brenda is one of my mom’s closest friends, and her daughter was our former Miss Tippah County Hospitality. Jennifer Joe (JJ is what we called her) taught me everything I know about Firm Grip, boob tape, and the pageant wave.
“Now, Ellen,” JJ cautioned, “you’re going to need to make friends at this pageant because you need one hand to pull the swimsuit over a buttock, another hand to spray and fan it dry, and another to get it ALL THE WAY BACK UNDER your butt so it sticks right. You find the nice girls because the last thing you want is to let a mean girl back there, spraying too much, and you can see the sheen in the stage lights—or even worse: they put on too little and your suit rides halfway up your butt cheek while you’re onstage. You’ll never live that down.”
“Now, are you ready to learn boob tape?” JJ continued.
“Oh, JJ, what have I gotten myself into? I am an idiot for thinking I could do this.”
“You are not,” she said firmly. “This is the life of a pageant girl. We are all just blush, boob tape, and butt grip, and the key is to smile and make it all look natural… in four-inch heels.”
To my surprise, each girl competing was nicer than the next. We were all on this journey together. Especially during the swimsuit competition. When I think back on it, I only see hands.
After we rushed backstage, we had exactly two minutes to change into our swimsuits. I started by bending over so two other girls could try to make cleavage out of what skin and fat I had. One girl pushed my right boob to the middle while another pulled my left boob to the middle. Then I pulled the tape across the side of my back all the way under the bottom of my boobs and voilá—I looked up and there stood Dolly Parton in a red swimsuit. There was no time to revel in my new cleavage, though. We had to Firm Grip my butt, then help the other girls.
In two minutes, we were all taped and gripped to perfection. And that could sum up the week. Each girl was as beautiful on the inside as the outside. We weren’t competing with each other, only trying to be the best version of ourselves.
As expected, I didn’t win Miss Mississippi, but I did win some great friends and the occasional opportunity to judge other pageants. I had cousins who lived just north of us in West Tennessee. Their local high school called and invited me to judge their beauty review, and I accepted. It was one last chance to throw on my crown and heels.
This pageant took place in the school’s large gymnasium. There was no “backstage,” so the audience could see the girls as they lined up and waited their turn on the runway. The girls probably didn’t realize it, but I paid as much attention to how they interacted with each other before they hit the stage as I did to when they walked the runway.
I zeroed-in on one contestant who had professionally styled hair in a French twist, perfectly rolled bangs, and a strategically placed ringlet of hair on each side of her face. I could tell that her makeup was professionally done, and she’d paid God only knew how much for her sparkling dress. Technically she was beautiful, but the glares she gave the other girls dimmed every sequin and rhinestone on her dress. She hit the runway, and her family yelled her name. I caught her little eye roll that she quickly turned into a pageant smile.
Then another girl caught my eye as she stood ready for the runway, smiling and talking to the girls on either side of her. She’d only taken a couple of steps when her family clapped for her, but that was drowned out when the student section raised a raucous cheer. In all of that noise, she tried to keep a straight face but failed. She started to laugh, which only made her even more beautiful. This girl was the exact opposite of the one before her.
I noticed that her evening gown was handmade or a hand-me-down, but the beautiful chiffon matched her olive skin. Her hair was in a simple chignon, but simple was making a comeback in the pageant world.
There were two people judging with me, and we all had to agree on a winner. There was a tie. Wouldn’t you know it, Miss Sequins and Miss Sunshine were in a dead heat.
The three of us judges now had to share our opinions about who should win. When they asked for my opinion, I said, “I say we let the sequins break the tie. Those are pretty, but the trend is going toward less sparkle. The other girl is very on trend with her hairstyle.”
“Really? I didn’t realize,” one of the judges said.
“Oh yes—simple is definitely the way to go with pageants these days,” I said, flying high on haute couture.
“Well, I guess that settles it.”
The emcee announced the third and second runners-up, and it was down to Sequins and Sunshine. Whichever name wasn’t called next would be the winner. They crowned Miss Sunshine as Miss Whatever, and I skedaddled out of there as fast as I could.
I made it over the state line and back home in time for supper, but the news had beaten me home. “What happened at the pageant?” Mama asked before I could make it all the way in the door.
“Well, the good news is that the perfect girl won, or at least in my eyes. The bad news is we may never be welcomed back to that town again. There was just something about the girl that won. I wanted her to win so bad.”
“Well, honey, I couldn’t be prouder. That was your aunt Gen on the phone. The girl you picked is one of the sweetest girls in town, and she’s been having a tough time, but you made her day. Her family didn’t have a lot of money, but they did the best they could for her pageant look.”
“Mom! I can’t explain it, but I just felt like that girl had to win.” It made no sense, but it had to be her.
“It was probably the Lord using you to help make someone’s day brighter.”
“Mom, stop… It wasn’t that.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “He has no other arms but ours, and no other voice but ours. He used you to help her feel better.”