Pretty Babies

"Texas is the pageant capital of the world," explains J.J. Smith, a Houston-based writer for Pageant magazine. "People in Texas grow up with the old adage that girls are always prettier in Texas. It's like an aura or mystique, and people start believing it because they hear it so much."

At Miss D'Juana's, a table outside the ballroom is blanketed with fliers announcing future contests. One beckons, "If you ever dreamed of being a star .... There's only one place to be! Hollywood." Then there's a Miss & Mrs. National Mardi Gras Pageant in Galveston this January. And a Krown Royalty Productions Pageant in October at the Howard Johnson's on Airport Boulevard.

A four-page newsletter, Pageant Headlines, offers more news on the subject at hand. Published in Huntsville, the newsletter includes mention of a beauty pageant on the Internet.

A mail-order form offers the new Top Notch Pageantry & Modeling Directory, published in La Marque. The $35 directory promises announcements of upcoming pageants -- plus listings of 2,500 photographers; more than 5,000 salons for nails, hair and electrolysis; more than 600 dentists and orthodontists; and 5,600 places to buy gloves, hosiery and handbags.

Skye McCole sits quietly next to her mom, the boot ache resolved. While waiting for the modeling/beauty portion of the pageant to begin, Helen discusses Skye's upcoming appearance on a syndicated talk show, a pilot for a new series with "inner child" guru John Bradshaw. Skye's agent has been encouraging the appearance, but Helen worries out loud that she's setting herself up for major criticism. "You know how controversial children's beauty pageants are," she says.

Like all the pageant moms, Helen believes the competitions are worthwhile, that they give her daughter poise and self-esteem. She also thinks the pageants offer Skye an outlet for her talents -- a hard thing for a three-year old to find. Besides, Helen argues, "The pageants give her a real social life."

Despite her obvious commitment, Helen maintains a bit of ironic distance. On the surface, at least, she takes the business less seriously than Kelli Harvey. For this pageant, Helen helped organize a Saturday-night parents' show, with songs and skits spoofing Miss D'Juana's penchant for handing out titles to every contestant. And later this afternoon, Skye will perform "Beauty Pageant Blues," a flip song that Helen wrote with a friend. It starts, "Rhinestones, sequins, glitter and glue / You got me started when I was just two / I got the beauty pageant blues."

Show tunes and easy listening ditties signal the start of the pageant, and the buzzing crowd falls silent. The emcee, a young woman, announces that it's time for the two- to three-year-olds in the modeling/beauty portion of the pageant to line up.

Skye and Helen claim a place alongside a wall near the stage. Because Skye won in her age class last year, she's not actually competing with these tykes, but with last year's other winners -- including Lindsey -- to be named the Queen of Queens. For that reason, Skye will go on-stage last, after the eight other two- and three-year-olds.

A pageant mom compliments Skye's dress. Helen complains that the seamstress didn't finish the dress in time; it still needs more rhinestones, she says, pointing to empty spots. The dress cost $900; the ultrasuede alone commands $125 a yard. McCole explains that she'll recoup some of the money by selling the dress for $700, a common practice on the pageant circuit.

The three-year-olds, some with pouffed big hair and big skirts, waddle onto the runway past the judges. Lindsey from Buna, Texas, wears a blue denim dress and looks like a frightened deer. Her mom holds her hand and accompanies her on-stage, gently leading her through the first few steps.

Helen sniffs at the ensemble of a girl named Cara. "Her boots don't match her dress," Helen notes. "If it's between two girls, the judges will deduct points for that."

Cara's mom stands behind the three judges, signaling her daughter. The mom pivots, and on-stage, Cara shadows her; the mom smiles, and Cara smiles.

When the emcee announces Skye's name, Helen bends down and says, "You're on, kid."

Skye strolls across the stage with the confidence of a million-dollar baby. Her mom goes to stand behind the judges.

At the tip of the runway, a few feet from the judges, Skye spins, holding one arm like a waiter carrying a tray. Helen points to her eye, signaling Skye to make eye contact with the judges. Still looking at the judges, Skye puts her hand under her chin as if in thought.

Suddenly, pointing her finger as if shooting an imaginary gun, she shouts, "Bang, bang, bang!" The audience explodes into warm laughter.

"Ya hoo," yells Skye -- again surprising the crowd.
Near the end of her two minutes, she leaves the judges with something else to remember. As she is about to exit the stage, she pauses, looks at the judges and waves. "Bye-bye," she says.

She runs down the stage steps and into her mother's arms. "Did you hear them laugh?" Skye asks.