Do beauty pageants like Miss World and Miss Universe still matter?

Dubai: For contests that harp on world peace, there’s rarely any peace surrounding beauty pageants.

The past few days have made that painfully clear. Miss England Milla Magee’s shocking exit from Miss World 2025 mid-way in South India —claiming she felt like “performing monkeys,” found the gruelling hours unbearable, and was uncomfortable parading in gowns before male sponsors—sparked a media storm.

The veracity of those claims is yet to be established. But here’s what worries me more: the system itself.

Beauty pageants, in this supposedly “woke” era, still demand women conform to a very specific mould. A slim waist, proportional assets, the right attitude, the right amount of charm—and ideally, not too many opinions.

The entire format feels frozen in time, packaged in glitter and good intentions. But what is our enduring obsession with these contests?

I asked Dubai-resident Jocelyn Ary, 29, who works at my kids’ music centre in Meadows, what she finds appealing about pageants. She didn’t hesitate: “Since we were kids, we found the grace and poise of the women very compelling,” she said. “The aura they exhibit is aspirational. I feel they represent hope.”

Hope. Poise. Aura. It’s a beautiful ideal, but one that often comes at a steep price.

This week, that price came into sharp focus with Rachel Gupta, India’s Miss Grand International 2024 winner, who publicly stepped down, citing “broken promises, mistreatment, and a toxic environment.”

Hours later, the pageant organisers stripped her of the crown, accusing her of breaching her duties and skipping an official trip to Guatemala.

She promises to release a video detailing her version of events. But already, her story mirrors that of many before her: women who speak up are often labelled difficult, pushed out quietly, or publicly shamed.

It brings us to the bigger question. Is there no HR department, no structured grievance system in place?.

The message to the perfectly sculpted contestants seem to be clear: endure or exit. Smile through exhaustion, rehearse at dawn, walk that runway like nothing’s wrong. Is there a redressal system in place—or are you simply branded a whistleblower in heels?

Former Miss India and Miss Universe runner-up Celina Jaitly weighed in this week too, defending pageants as platforms of professionalism, cultural diplomacy, and economic power. And while her experience may have been transformative, the current structure doesn’t seem to offer that same empowerment for everyone. Let's also not forget. Bollywood actors like Priyanka Chopra Jonas, Sushmita Sen, and Aishwarya Rai Bachchan were placed on the cultural touchstone map when they won beauty pageants.

Many aspiring Bollywood actors have told me that the best way to nab acting offers in Hindi cinema or South Indian blockbusters is to win a beauty pageant where looks and 'beauty with a purpose' are hailed.

But here’s the truth: what’s progressive about sending women around the world in crowns and ball gowns, preaching world peace while being micromanaged, silenced, and objectified?

It’s starting to feel like a dated movie script—the kind where Sandra Bullock goes undercover in Miss Congeniality, gets a makeover, and saves the day. No one claps when the villain is caught—because she wanted world peace too.

And that’s the problem: everyone in the room wants world peace. But pageants today need more than recycled answers and dazzling gowns. They need a systemic overhaul—one that actually values the women at the centre of it all.

If beauty pageants want to stay relevant, they don’t need more sequins. They need systems. Until then, the peace they preach will remain as hollow as the crowns they hand out.