Beauty Pageants & National Identity: A Literary Look

At night in Bangkok, when 28-year-old Ahtisa Manalo appeared on the stage of the 2025 Miss Universe finals wearing traditional Filipino costumes, millions of viewers in the Philippine Islands thousands of miles away were staring at the screen, analyzing her every gesture.

“In the Philippines, people usually stop for three things: boxing, basketball and beauty pageants.” Manalo explained before the game. What she calls “3B culture” outlines the most authentic social picture of this Southeast Asian island country: Pacquiao’s boxing matches can make the streets empty, basketball courts are everywhere, and the stories of beauty queens have become a spiritual beacon to inspire the people.

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In the village square of La Mote 2, Laguna Province, a small beauty pageant is in full swing. In a makeshift backstage, makeup artists navigate a web of curling irons and wires. 21-year-old Mark Glenn Kosico wore a feathered costume that paid tribute to the “Bird and Egg Day” and nervously recited the speech: “This is the moment for me to prove myself to my family.” 17-year-old Ulrika May Latayan’s declaration was more straightforward: “Fight for glory.”

This seemingly simple event is actually the starting point for countless top players. Before the opening, the audience prayed collectively, and the island scenery of the Philippines was played on the big screen. When “Our Common Victory” sung by Lea Salonga resounded through the square, the audience pressed their hands on their chests in awe – national identity and national pride have always been the soul of the Philippine beauty pageant.

Scenes like this take place throughout the Philippines throughout the year. From school halls to town squares, religious festivals to community celebrations, hundreds if not thousands of beauty pageants make up the country’s most vibrant landscape. “Many of the top queens started in local competitions like this.” said Miss Universe Philippines CEO Jonas Garfoud, who is known in the industry as “the one who created the queen.”

Beauty pageants have already formed a complete industrial chain: gait coaches, fashion designers, clothing manufacturers, social media promoters… “It takes a whole village to create a beauty queen.” Garford said frankly, “Many people rely on this industry for survival.”

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The Filipinos’ craze for beauty pageants has its roots deep in colonial history.

During the Spanish colonial period in the 16th century, colonists combined religious festivals with local traditions and spread Catholicism through grand parades and celebrations. “This laid the foundation for modern beauty pageants, allowing them to take root and become deeply rooted in the Philippines.” Genevieve Alva Clutario, author of “The Beauty System: A History of Power and Modern Empire in the Philippines,” explained, “This form of celebration with the participation of all people made people naturally accept the existence of beauty pageants.”

In 1908, the American Colonial Manila Carnival, a World’s Fair-like event, became the first pageant in the Philippines. At the time, people needed to buy newspaper votes to support candidates, and the race to raise money for the carnival unexpectedly sparked a nationalist uproar.

The first competition was supposed to select a champion, but due to a cheating scandal, the result was forced to change: Marjorie Colton from Illinois, USA, was named the “Queen of the West”, while Pula Villanueva Cara, who was loved by Filipinos, became the “Queen of the East.” During the coronation ceremony, Pula was forced to hand over her crown to Marjorie, symbolizing that she was the real Queen of Manila Carnival.

“This instead inspired nationalist sentiments.” Crutario pointed out, “Under colonial rule, beauty pageants unexpectedly became a platform to express resistance.” In the following decades, beauty pageants were deeply intertwined with business and politics, and beauty pageants blossomed everywhere. In the 1920s, the “Manila Carnival Queen” was officially renamed “Miss Philippines,” and the archipelago nation began to call itself the “Land of Beauty Queens.”

In 1969, Gloria Diaz became the first Filipino to win the Miss Universe crown. Tayag, who was the vice president of the Miss Universe Philippines Organization at the time, recalled: “Television was not yet popular at that time, and people crowded in the windows of their neighbors to watch the live broadcast – that sense of collective glory is difficult to replicate.” In 1974, Manila hosted the Miss Universe competition for the first time, pushing this craze to a new high.

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Today, the Philippines ranks fourth in the Miss Universe rankings. In the past decade, two national idols have been born: Catrianna Gray and Pia Wurtzbach. With the support of approximately 10 million Filipinos overseas, beauty pageant culture has become an emotional link connecting Filipinos around the world. “In many fields, it is difficult for Filipinos to occupy the world stage, but beauty pageants are our strength. Even if you don’t agree with beauty pageants, you cannot deny its power.”

For this still-developing country, beauty queens have long since become more than a symbol of beauty. “We like stories that inspire us to be better and work harder.” Manalo said that in the Philippines, beauty queens are spiritual idols, and their struggles are the aspirations of countless ordinary people for a better life.

Beauty pageants have long been surrounded by controversy. Color discrimination and stereotypes of thinness as beauty left over from colonial history once cast a shadow on this industry.

“In the Philippines, the protagonists in TV, movies and fashion advertisements are often people with fair skin and slim figures.” Former Miss Universe Philippines contestant Aine Bernos recalled that when she competed in 2021, she was fiercely attacked by netizens because of her typical Filipino appearance of “brown skin, 1.6 meters tall, round face and small nose”. “Some people say I ‘look like an ordinary Filipino’, while others suggest I slim down my cheeks.”

What netizens call “Barbie arms” – arms as slender as Barbie dolls – have become the standard for judging contestants, which makes Ain feel even more pressure. “Beauty pageants made me doubt my body, and I even thought about losing weight and whitening my skin.”

But change is happening. In 2024, Chelsea Manalo became the first dark-skinned mixed-race person to be crowned Miss Universe Philippines. “When I was a child, I was bullied because of my dark skin, and I even considered using whitening products.” She said while standing in the training room in Manila. “Now, countless girls like me finally see the possibilities.” In 2023, the Miss Universe Organization even canceled the requirement that contestants be unmarried and have no children.

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For Atissa Manalo, this year’s event in Bangkok is her 18th and final beauty pageant. At the age of 10, she made her debut on stage in order to win free tuition. Since then, she has completed college with scholarships and competition prizes. In the Philippines finals in May this year, she accidentally fell down in the evening dress segment. “There was silence for a moment, but when I stood up, the cheers were deafening.”

For six months, the high-intensity schedule of 12-16 hours a day has never stopped. But in moments of exhaustion, she always thinks of the national expectations: “Wearing the Philippine ribbon itself means pressure, but this pressure comes from support – it drives us to keep moving forward.”

When the Mexican contestant finally won the 2025 Miss Universe crown, although Manalo was disappointed with the result of not being among the top five, there were still countless fans waiting with light signs at the Manila Airport. After the game, social media was flooded with “Thank you, Manalo” messages.

“What the beauty pageant taught me is not only how to walk the catwalk and how to answer questions, but also how to face pressure and persist in dreams.” Manalo said that she hopes her story can inspire more Filipino girls.