Beauty pageants are the work of the Devil. An extreme opinion? I don’t think so. Let’s take a look at what takes place at these contests.

A tall, tan, thin young woman glides across a stage in five-inch heels and a swimsuit (not exactly a practical outfit). She is smiling ear-to-ear, revealing sparkling, white, bleached, Vaseline-covered teeth. This is the same smile she gave an hour ago while wearing a frilly pink evening gown as she explained that she wanted to save the world by giving every child a giraffe.

Her hair is sprayed stiff, her face is hidden by three inches of makeup, and there is no telling how much masking tape and padding is under the swimsuit, pushing up this and pulling in that. Some people claim that beauty pageants are good things, teaching young ladies about charm, poise, talent, and self-confidence. They claim that physical appearance is just a small part of the overall judgment. Bull. If these contests really were about the “inside” of individuals, contestants would not have to peroxide their hair Barbie-doll-blonde or starve themselves so they can fit into bathing suits my ten year old niece is too big for.