I’ll admit it. I have a small fetish for watching documentaries about childhood beauty pageants. Some might speculate that it’s because of my background as a Women’s Studies major, surely the idea of little girls being dressed and tressed and painted to such extremes stirs the deep roots of feminism in my psyche.
Others might note that I’m old enough to remember the Jon Benet Ramsey case. Though the beauty pageant circuit had nothing to do with her murder (that we know about) we were all a little bit shocked and a little bit confused by the heights to which a young girl’s blonde hair could be teased.
But while both those explanations sound reasonable, and though I wish I could claim one or both equally, I’m afraid I have something to confess. Continue reading