In Bolivia, beauty is queen
Post-feminist America is apologetic about its beauty pageants, but here it's shamelessly about long locks, long legs, and sexy smiles.
By Sara Miller Llana | Staff writer of The Christian Science Monitorfrom the April 11, 2007 edition
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Santa Cruz, Bolivia - In the Eastern tropics of Bolivia, beauty contests are so entrenched in the culture that high school students, when raising money, put on pageants here the way American teens hold car washes.
Miss Bolivia Universe 2006, a 22-year-old named Jessica Jordan, regularly gets greeted by politicians – her opinion matters – and never stops signing autographs. The pastime is so popular that even agricultural organizations get into the game each year, crowning a "Sugarcane Queen," "Milk Queen," and "Rice Queen."
While the dramatic snowcapped peaks in the Andes and the bowler hats and petticoats worn by indigenous women are widely known as the exported symbols of Bolivia, here in Santa Cruz, a steamy tropical city that seems far more like Brazil, beauty queens reign. And while in the United States Miss America promoters seek to justify the scholarly aspects of the contest, in Bolivia it's a celebration of long locks, long legs, and captivating smiles.
"Beauty queens are heroes here," says Roque Alvarenga, a makeup artist who coordinates pageants at Gloria Promotions, an agency that also offers beauty classes to local residents. "We don't have well-known artists here. In Santa Cruz, it's the culture of beauty."
On a recent evening at Gloria Promotions, a group of young pupils sat in front of a wall mirror, makeup bags in their laps, and patiently learned the ins and outs of mascara and eyeliner application.
Other days they learn how to choose outfits for events and then how to color-coordinate them. They learn where to put an executive or functionary at a dinner party, and how to speak well. They also practice walking down the runway.
The main difference from the Victorian "finishing schools" of the 19th century is that these kids are in jeans, not petticoats. They don't walk with books balanced on their heads, either – but they do prop sticks across their shoulders as a posture-improving exercise.
On this day, Maybelin Paniagua smudges beige eyeshadow over her lids. "Did I put it on right?" she asks her teacher, Fabiola Orteaga.
"You put it on? You can't even see it," Ms. Orteaga replies. Then the teacher moves on to eyelash curlers. "Press three seconds, and let go."
Many participants, like Jessica Soleto, hope to become beauty queens one day. "Ever since I was born," she says wistfully, her hair pulled back in a bun like a ballerina. "I would love to be Miss Santa Cruz and represent my people."










