Dear Ms. Prejean (or should I say Miss California),
It has come to my attention that you recently competed in the Miss USA pageant and lost, even though that crown by rights belonged to you, because when some flaming gay judge asked if you supported same sex marriage rights, you said hm, not so much.
Fox News has been all atwitter for days, the conservative blogosphere has been lit up like a drag queen at the ball, and the Alabama State Legislature resolved to commend you, even though you’re a Cali Girl.
You’re a right-wing darling now for standing by your principles and being true to yourself, but I’m a little confused about that. Let me tell you why.
Beauty pageants exist for only one reason: to give gay men the opportunity to dish about women’s clothes and make snarky remarks about the Malibu Barbie plastic perfection of the contestants. The judges’ table at any such pageant is stacked with gay men, as is the audience.
In order to score the Miss California title and the right to compete in the Miss USA pageant, several things had to be done.
- You had to spend months, no, years, sculpting your body to the Barbie contours the gay judges demand. You subsisted on sprouts and Diet Water. You hired a gay personal trainer to help you develop that bizarre modern combo of over-developed muscles popping off of your clearly visible bones.
- You spent vast amounts of money on clothes, fabulous, to-die-for clothes, the kind that would make the gay judges swoon.
- Your gay coach taught you how to carry yourself, how to walk without falling over your high heels, how to pose with your hips and boobs jutting just right. Darling, you look fantastic just like that, don’t move an inch.
- A gay makeup artist painted on your Malibu Barbie face, and it is startlingly realistic. I’m surprised Mattel hasn’t sued.
- You learned to speak without peppering your sentences with ums, because when you pull the string at the back of Barbie’s neck, she says “C’mon, Ken, let’s go for a ride!” with perfect diction.
And then, after all that, after you won the California pageant and moved into the nationals, after you strutted your stuff in your tiny bikini in front of God and everyone, after you wholly dedicated yourself to pleasing the gay pageant hounds so you could win, win, win, you picked the last seconds of the contest to decide to be “yourself” by telling the judges they shouldn’t have the same rights that Malibu Barbies take for granted.
Well, Ms. Prejean, I’m glad you came to your senses, even though it cost you the contest. Go back to college, eat some pizza, learn a trade. Personally, I hope that some day you understand that everyone deserves equal rights under the law. But for now, I hope you will stow the Miss California crown at the back of the closet and dedicate yourself to achieving something meaningful, something you can be proud of, something that is true to you.