In his essay, "Artifice and Transformation: The Imaginary Lives of Little Girls," author Robert Greene presents a feminist analysis in defending the pageant industry, proposing that when we "respond in one of two ways" to young girls in pageants—moralizing or laughing—we might just be "imposing ourselves on them [and] responding out of certain preconceptions." Greene argues that by doing this, we are assuming that these young girls are merely the instruments of their mothers' desires, and have no desires or instrumentality of their own, because we're "not used to treating the inner lives of young girls with the proper seriousness—as a subject worthy of study and analysis."

Underneath it all is the unstated assumption that [girls] are essentially passive and weak…Boys can create their own worlds; their fantasies can be dark and violent, but we can accept the fact they correspond to some desire or need inside of them. Girls are empty vessels, screens of projection; they are not the agents or producers of their world, or so we think. We do not recognize that they could produce something strong, strange, and even freakish all on their own.

Greene goes on to explain the work of Lewis Carroll— author of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland—who also took portraits of little girls, as a way to understand them. The only way that Carroll could get them to sit still for his photographs was to give them elaborate costumes and engage them in his storytelling. By entering their world:

[H]e discovered two timeless elements in [little girls'] fantasy lives—artifice and transformation.
In the tight world of Victorian England, he found them masters at reversing conventions and creating nonsense—a literary genre Carroll would later explore, inspired by his encounters with these girls.

Greene believes that everything in our world is "fake," as our own conventions are merely creations. Our "relaxed looks in clothing are as artificial as the world of Marie Antoinette, only less spectacular and creative." He sees the portraits in High Glitz as a kind of "reverse commentary" on our "drabness and inauthentic relationship to the artificial."

While Greene's argument is compelling, the fact remains that many of these girls are entered into pageants by their mothers when they're only a few months old, and thus, personal agency is not even up for debate. However, having been a little girl who was drawn to make-up and make-believe at a very young age—and knowing, even then, that it had nothing to do with appealing to male fantasies, but rather, indulging in my own—I can say, personally, that much of what Greene says here rings true.

Perhaps gender is a construct, and liking the color pink, being partial to dresses, and having a predilection for mermaids and unicorns are learned behaviors. But then how does that explain say, transgender children, or little boys who—at ages as young as 18 months—have those same interests, despite the fact that they've been taught not to? It doesn't. But what does seem clear is that both girlie girls and trans kids alike are often told by society as a whole that their common attraction to frilly femininity is frivolous, and thus, invalid. And maybe that's a bigger problem for feminism than pageantry.


However, the fact that this little girl is only 9-years-old and looks like a Hooters calendar girl is still unsettling.


In his foreword "In Defense of Child Beauty Pageants," author and Barneys' creative director Simon Doonan gives his take on the child pageant industry:

Call me narcissistic, but I cannot help contrasting the show-bizzy lives of these tarted-up tots with my own bleak, post-war, scabby-kneed British childhood…and then I become horribly jealous. If only somebody in our house were to have figured out that all I ever wanted was to parade about—like a Madame Alexander doll come to life—in front of a cheering crowd, bathed in adoration and soft pink light.

Doonan realizes that his views aren't popular, but he doesn't care.

The knee-jerk antipathy towards this all-American ritual is starting to bore me. The predictable tongue-lashing meted out to child beauty pageants is clearly coming from dreary, over-educated, middle-class people who have never been intoxicated by the spotlight.

And while he doesn't directly question the mental and social implications of the physical—and sexual—values instilled in these little girls at such a young age, he does bring up a good point with the likely trajectory of their futures:

Will these girls end up huffing glue on the street corner? Will they become the Amy Winehouses of the 2020s? I seriously doubt it. As with teen beauty queens, the most likely scenario for a former pageant babe entails, at the very least, marrying a local business man, and/or reading the weather on the local news channel, and/or slinging peanuts on a domestic airline. Nothing less, and possibly more: Always remember that Shirley Temple, the primordial glitter from which all child pageant contestants subsequently emerged, lived to become—drum roll—a U.S. Ambassador.

Much of the pageant world is confusing to outsiders. For example, why does a 2-year-old need acrylic nails? In the "High Glitz Style Guide," Anderson breaks down the elements of the pageant categories, explains the specifics and purpose of each part of the presentation and costumes, and describes the required model stances like "Pretty Feet."


This getup would be filed under Pro-Am (aka Sportswear or Western Wear). The "liquid beading" and fringe of these Bob Mackie-esque outfits are strategically placed, and a proper Pro-Am costume includes a "Rip Off" (the part of the garment that is removed during a routine and used as a prop for twirling), and "Oohs and Aahs" (facial expressions). Still, the Style Guide doesn't explain the purpose of a fabric Frisbee with a hole.

All images courtesy of High Glitz, by Susan Anderson, published by powerHouse Books.

Isn't it standard for 8-year-old children to "get bigger"? Isn't that called growing? When it was time for the swimsuit portion of Alyssa's pageant, she desperately wanted to do a "snorkel dance" because she thinks it's fun. But when her mother saw her do the snorkel dance on stage, she freaked out, saying, "That move is way too young for Alyssa, and that's something that you would never do wearing heels and swimsuit." Um, actually, Alyssa is way too young for heels and swimsuit. The snorkel dance is completely age appropriate.


At least Alyssa has art as an outlet to deal with her feelings about her mother.


But sometimes she does get physical.


Are you ready to have your heart broken? Alyssa thinks she's a "loser" for getting second runner-up.

She actually watched that documentary and walked away from it thinking that child pageants were a good idea? And she was questioning her infant's mental abilities!? But this woman displayed a lot of questionable judgment, like fighting with her six-year-old over which one of them had more of a right to be cranky.


She also wanted to "throw an egg" at her daughter for giving a bad talent performance.


"Virgin American hair. We do get the hair from American teenagers here in America."


I imagine this man is the Jay Manuel of the child pageant world. He's a makeup artist who is getting high on his own supply…of foundation and gloss.


The best, though, was this girl, who wasn't even one of the featured contestants on the show. During her interview portion of the pageant, she was pretty honest about why she is there. (Hint: It has nothing to do with making friends.)

The grand prize for this pageant is $1000, yet this mother invested over $7000 for her daughter to compete. WTF is up with her math?


I think "chewing on lead paint" actually did affect this woman.


WTF is up with purposely not giving a child medication?


How is this photo at all representative of a 7-year-old human?


WTF is she talking about?


Speaking of turds, that's all I can think about when looking at this screen grab and caption.

Basically, it went like this: Cy came into the Gawker office with TLC publicist, whom I'll call Helen. Cy and I talked for about 50 minutes in a conference room, while Helen sat nearby. I ended up with much more footage than I could ever post, but whatever. I like to shoot a lot and trim from there. Yes, I had a lot of questions, but Cy had long answers. I had no problem with this, as it was an interesting conversation. I thought a lot of what he said was worth posting (as you can see in the video gallery below, which is organized by subject.)

When we finished, Helen said, "That was a hard-hitting interview." No it wasn't. It was about reality TV and beauty pageants. But OK. Whatever! I kind of just grinned. "I was not prepared for that," she said gravely, now looking at me as if I were a tornado that just passed through. "Oh yeah, well, I just think that given Jezebel's nature and the commenters' desire to dissect this sort of stuff, my line of questioning was appropriate." Keep in mind that I wasn't nearly as tough on Cy as many would have been. First of all, he's a nice guy that I believe is interested in the well-being of his clients. Secondly, most of those clients are teens so the whole, "This is child abuse!" reaction that you might have to other pageantsploitation fare like Toddlers and Tiaras does not really apply to King of the Crown. Finally, after prefacing the interview by saying that I wanted to talk not just about plot points, but actual issues, I felt that Cy was prepared for where I was going.

Helen disagreed. "I was not prepared for that, Cy was not prepared for that," she said, almost scolding. She explained that TLC had targeted Jezebel as an outlet for this coverage because of its snarky-but-uplifting nature. I had somehow betrayed her image of that. Still gravely she told me, "This was our hardest interview of the day." Well, glad to shake things up for you, I thought. I said, "Really?"

"I just wasn't prepared for that," she continued. "Is there any way I can see the interview before you post it?" I explained that I didn't know the official policy regarding such approval and she'd have to talk to Anna. "Well, how has it been with interviews in the past?" she asked. "We don't have third parties approving our content," I told her.

"I just wasn't prepared for that," she said again. As for Cy, I don't even know what he was doing at this point. He remained silent. Maybe it was his polite, Southern way. Maybe he didn't have an issue with talking frankly about the world he's ensconced in.

"Well, look," I said, leveling again. "A lot of people think reality shows are just mindless trash, but I don't believe that. I think you can examine so-called 'low culture' from an intelligent perspective and talk about its underlying issues. I figured any of those issues were fair game. I wasn't out to make anyone look stupid. In fact, I trusted that Cy was up for an intelligent conversation. And it turns out that he was, anyway." She assured me that he was very eloquent.

"I really wasn't prepared for that," she said to me yet again. All I could do at this point was shrug. I carefully considered her product and ended up proving that its purveyor could handle questions that probed beyond pageant tips and stage-mom smack talk. I didn't see the problem. They left soon after this, somewhat awkwardly of course, although Helen did attempt to break the tension by asking me what my favorite reality shows were. America's Next Top Model because it's insane and Rock of Love because it's jubilantly trashy, were my answers. I don't think she could relate.

Under different circumstances, if someone suggested that the hours I spent researching and thinking about a subject somehow translated into me not doing my job properly, I would probably lash out and end up yelling. I'm a hothead and condescension is my least favorite social indignity. Here, though, I never lost my cool. All along, I knew I was justified (and if you watch any of the excerpts from the interview, you'll see how not a big deal the whole thing is). But more than that, I was secure that if you're raising red flags for a publicist, you're probably doing your job as a journalist.


This is merely an intro - Cy talks about his professional title and how he got into pageants.


Here, Cy talks about Kayleigh, one of his clients whom we watched struggle with her weight throughout the King of Crowns pilot.


Q: Have you ever turned a client away who seems to be negatively affected by pageants? We also talk about whether pageants have the potential to devastate a girl's self-image.


On the pilot, one contestant who's practicing the interview competition is asked, "How do you respond to people who say that pageants objectify women?" Here's Cy's own answer to that question.


Here we talk about Cy's notorious client, Caitlin Upton (aka Miss South Carolina Teen 2007 aka the "Such as" girl), who begins her road to pageant redemption on King of the Crown. The show also interestingly examines her anguish as the result of her YouTube ridicule.


Q: Besides self-confidence and the ability to interview, do you see other practical uses of pageantry?


Finally, Cy talks about being a gay man in the pageant world, and whether his career has afforded him acceptance he might not have otherwise found in the South.

1.) Mantra Fail


2.) "Hot Mess" Fail


3.) Inner-Beauty Fail


4.) Spray Tan Fail


5.) Investment Fail


6.) Grammar Fail


7.) Sticking to Ethics Fail


8.) Normalcy Fail


9.) Logic Fail


10.) Confidence Fail

It could be horrifying.
Remember the insane Lindsay Lohan/Tyra Banks Disney movie, Life Size? Lindsay played a girl who accidentally brought her Barbie-ish doll to life while trying to resurrect her mother. Tyra's performance as Eve was pretty painful. The story — a "classic overachiever" acting as a mother figure; the lesson that you don't have to be perfect all the time — was okay, but not worth repeating. (And it's probably best to leave out any music.) And let's get honest here: Barbie was, from her inception, designed as an aspirational/inspirational toy: the very first commercial was about encouraging little girls to long to be beautiful, have lots of accessories and lots of clothes. At the time, she was different, a breakthrough doll, since little girls usually played with baby dolls — not dolls made to look like adults. Her preposterous physique has been much discussed; one study suggested that if Barbie were a real woman, she would be five-foot-nine, have measurements of 36-18-33, and lack the body fat needed to menstruate. Her "All-American" look — long blonde hair and blue eyes — was actually based on a German doll named Lilli; and when held up as a standard of beauty leaves most people out; blonde hair is actually extremely rare — many sources say that only 1.8% of the world's population is naturally blonde. Plus, Barbie's message of femininity focuses on being pretty and getting dressed. We've had enough of that.

It could be awesome.
Barbie has evolved throughout the last 50 years: Though she was first marketed as being a "Teen-age Fashion Model," Barbie has been an astronaut, a ballerina, a tennis star, a pilot, a firefighter, a chef and a presidential candidate. While she may not be focused, Barbie certainly sends the message that a woman can do anything. Or at least pretend to. If the screenwriters could manage to make Barbie some kind of amazing, confident, not-annoying superachiever — who can rope a calf, whip up lobster thermidor, kick a winning soccer goal and speak 8 languages — that could be a really fun flick. Especially since she runs around with a multi-ethnic cast of friends. And when it comes to Ken, Barbie could take him or leave him; her life may be full of tiny chewable shoes, but she's never needed a man to make her who she is. Other ideas: Or Barbie could be an actress. Or a spy! And just fake her many professions. Either way, she could be a bold, independent adventurer: A character girls — and women — could look up to.

Or, you know, the filmmakers could end up with this:

And FYI, guys: Columbia Pictures has entered into negotiations to pick up He-Man, another Mattel property. So cue male body-dysmorphic order inciting storylines in 3…2…

Barbie Headed To The Big Screen [The Hollywood Reporter]
The Many Jobs Of Barbie [List After List]
Encouraging Girls to Identify With Barbie [Sociological Images]

Julie (she of "pageant moms > welfare moms") began entering her daughter Cassidy in pageants when she was just two months old. Now Cassidy is seven, and she regularly acts out. Julie insists that her daughter has "undiagnosed" ADHD, for which Cassidy takes an "herbal supplement."


Cassidy repeatedly said that she doesn't like being on stage or smiling, and that she only does it because her mother makes her.


She's obviously harboring a lot of resentment that will surely boil over in about five or six years when she starts pubing.


One of Cassidy's competitors is a little girl whose mother named her Sparkal Queenz. "Sparkal has a lot of Las Vegas in her personality," according to Sparkal's mother, and "she likes to impersonate people."


When I think of Queenz impersonating people in Vegas, I think of this.


Sparkal's mom started a YouTube channel to showcase her daughter.


Here's a taste.


She didn't exactly knock it out of the park when she performed her talent.


Look how pissed off this guy was while watching her.


Michaela is eight and her dad is so Spinal Tap.


And her Ren Faire, sword-fighting, pirate performance troupe mother is so Bernadette Peters. Michaela ended up taking the big prize, and won the whole pageant.


Sparkal won Best Personality, but her mother wished they had a more fitting category.


This woman was the pageant director and she said, "We look for judges that understand that the children will wear makeup, that they might wear hair pieces or fake teeth. We ask them if that's going to interfere with you judging. They say no it won't interfere." I thought the whole point of wearing fake hair, teeth, nails and lashes so that the judges would like you better, not so that they would have to overlook it.


As for Cassidy, she ran out of her ADHD "herbal supplement."


She lost. And got angry.

1.) These pants.


2.) Bad logic exhibited by the people in charge. Like this pageant director, who said of the industry, "If Donald Trump believes in it, then it's gotta be good." Then how does that explain his hair?


3.) May lead to deceiving MySpace photos.


4.) Six-year-olds need makeup on to feel pretty.


5.) This woman is in charge of makeup.


6.) Five-year-olds are forced to grow up too fast.


7.) Participants become unrecognizable.


8.) Girls are expected to act sexy before they are even potty-trained.


9.) Lax grammar.


10.) Delusions of grandeur.

Because she looked really different in her "Outfit of Choice."


There was supposed to be a "moms" category, with over 20 contestants. But Dana Sprinkle (the one who maybe stuffed her 10-year-old's bra) was the only one who ended up competing. She won.


The best part for me, though was the backstage dramz that occurred when one of the pageant's coordinators was fired, and all of the judges were replaced because of rumors of "fixed" scores.





I love how the management change made everything so chaotic that they had to completely redo the baby category.


Good thing this lady was there.

Actually, this woman (unintentionally) makes everything sound dirty.

Her name is Kimberly, and she's the mother of 4-year-old Skylar. Kimberly takes pageants very seriously, which makes her nervous, jittery, and sort of crazed.

The Red Bull probably isn't helping.

Kimberly's husband is "not a pageant dad." From what he says about his misgivings, you can tell that he isn't really that concerned about the damaging effects pageants could have on his daughter as he was about the ones they could have on his wife, namely, obesity.

This is the same little girl who was on Good Day L.A. earlier this week desperately looking to her parents to help her answer yes-or-no questions. While her parents enjoy lavishing expensive (and needless) spa treatments on their 4-year-old, they need to brace themselves for the likelihood that her teen years could be very difficult.

Emily's dad said, "Beauty for me is 'inner.' We're not superficial. If Emily feels confident, she's confident. And it'll show." I was freaking out when I saw his shirt.

And then freaked out some more when I saw that he has a matching windbreaker.

Last night's episode focused on the kids competing in the California Gold Coast Pageant, the same one featured in Little Miss Sunshine. While technically, it's a glitz pageant, it's not as insane or inappropriate as others we've seen on these shows. The girls wear minimal makeup (comparatively), don't wear flippers (the fake teeth), and hair pieces are in the minority.

That said, this episode was the most boring I've seen so far. I missed the trash and flash. I missed when kids put a little more into their routines than just this:

Still, there were some notable things. Like the fact that a 3-day-old boy competed.

And then there was 7-year-old Alicia.

She has a pet baby chicken, whom she makes mimic her routines.

Even though you can tell that it totally bums the chicken out.

Also, Alicia has a job. She works at a petting zoo on the weekends, where she feeds animals and hangs out with chickens.

Then there was 4-year-old Rylan. She prefers her father to her mother. She thinks her mother is a fool and is not afraid to say it to her face.

This lady at the pageant was by far my favorite.

And her brooch kicks Emily's dad's shirt and jacket's ass.

I don't know who this little girl was, but if you ask me, this behavior is not glitz—it's grotz. Was she raised at Alicia's petting zoo?

Both Emily and Alicia took the top prizes in their respective age groups, but these kids all know that winning isn't the most important thing. Right?

Seriously, these pageant people are always going on about the importance of personality, which they feel their children will gain from parading around onstage. Granted, Emily is only four, but if she has been in front of an audience since she was three months old, and she can't answer simple yes or no questions without guidance, then the glare of the spotlight is probably not something she's interested in.

I thought I was becoming desensitized to all the "needlessness" involved in the child pageant world. Until I saw this:

Which I actually found less offensive than this:

What does Victoria want to be when she grows up?

You might think it sounds like a lot, but if Barbie can do it, so can Victoria.

What was Victoria's talent for the pageant?

How did Victoria think it went?

What did the judges write?



"On the floor too much and stuff. Broke wind."

This is 7-year-old Elexis. She has pet hermit crabs that she talks to.

This sentiment has such a different meaning when said by an Atlantic City hooker.

Elexis' mom had beef with Margie, the makeup artist.

She said, "I think it might just be her personality, but she doesn't make me feel real warm and fuzzy. I feel very intimidated around her." I don't blame her. This is Margie.

Also intimidating: Debbie, the self-professed "tough judge."

You know, after watching so many of these child pageant things on TV, I always thought that the parents seemed most insane when they got up and coached their children from the audience.

But it turns out, it's just as disturbing when they do it in their heads.

And then there's Maude Morgan.

She's like Phyllis Diller.

In a Carol Channing wig.

She's down.

She even has a grill.

She knows what she's talking about.

And nobody could ever question her commitment to Sparkle Motion.

She has the support of her mom.

(While supplies last.)

Her father, however, actually thinks that this outfit is too revealing for a 7-year-old. He's so silly!

Speaking of men in pageants, here's a summary of a debate following last week's recap of T&T.

If you've seen Toddlers & Tiaras, you already know the deal: Makeup, fake tans, elaborate coifs.

According to Eleanor:

The programme itself follows three contestants, Madison, Sasha and Tyla. Each is desperate, (or rather, they are told they are desperate) to win the title.

Tyla, however, blew Madison right out of the water. Also nine, she is the youngest girl in Britain to wear contact lenses (glasses are, of course, ugly), she has highlights in her hair, and, aged seven, had plastic surgery.

Yes, apparently Tyla's ears stuck out, and had to be changed. In the clip below, you can witness the tone of the documentary, which certainly does its best to paint the contestants — and the mothers, for no fathers are pictured — in a negative light. There's more where this came from on YouTube.

As the little girls prepare for the pageant, there's no joy, no laugther, no "child"-like giddiness. Just tons of makeup. One contestant's mother says, "They remind me of little drag queens, really."

In addition to this new documentary, there's a new book from PowerHouse called High Glitz, featuring portraits of child pageant contestants. The photographs debuted earlier this year at a gallery in The Netherlands.

While the pageant culture is looked upon with a mix of fascination and disdain, blogger Eleanor (who is a "is a 17-year-old feminist from Edinburgh") is also worried. She writes:

It broke my heart to think of these children (none of whom won) as they left the venue. At an age where my biggest body hang up was wondering when my next tooth would come out, what would these girls now think of themselves? That they were ugly? Or indeed, that it mattered? That they were worthless, because their only ‘talent' had been beauty, and they had failed at it? Which would grow up to suffer from eating disorders, (which are affecting younger and younger children), or to believe that fake tans and plastered-on smiles are more important than intelligence, wit, compassion and love?

Well, we can only hope that these baby beauty queens will turn out okay — and that just like other American stuff which washes up on on distant shores — McDonald's; Coca-Cola; Madonna — pageants won't be taken too seriously by too many.

Baby Beauty Queens [The F Word]
Baby Beauty Queens [YouTube]
High Glitz [PowerHouse books]

Survey says:

Dwayne's daughter is 6-year-old Jayla. I pity the fool who had to subtitle her interviews. I would think that by the age of 6, one should not only be well on his/her way to reading, but also should have mastered speaking simple sentences.

Jayla's mom isn't as involved in the pageant process, but she's supportive of her husband's enthusiasm for it. I was wondering how she was at all convinced that Dwayne was genuinely into vaginal intercourse, but then I realized that the kind of people who are convinced that purchasing a $2,400 dress for a kindergartener is an investment in her future are the kind of people who willingly believe in preposterous notions.

The clincher for me was Dwayne's speech. He doesn't exactly have a lisp, but he pronounces his S's ("ssssswish your armsssss) in a way that suggests that his only interest in females is to live through their femininity vicariously, in the campiest way possible.

Dwayne was psyched about the Senators Room at the hotel in which the pageant was held.

I was curious as to whether any actual senators have ever utilized the designated space in the rural West Virginia town. But maybe Larry Craig has?

Dwayne mentioned that there were a lot more pageant dads at this particular event than he'd ever seen before. This guy was one of them. (He's European.)

Another contestant featured was 6-year-old Riley. She was my favorite for several reasons.
1.) She is a total spazz.

2.) She is on a wrestling team.

3.) She is a tomboy who is oblivious to proper makeup application.

4.) Her hair naturally grows into a style that indicates that she will one day love nothing more than rocking out to tribute bands.

5.) Her favorite toy is "balloons."

6.) She combs rodents with toothbrushes.

7.) And last, but certainly not least, she can "speak animal."

In fact, she's obsessed with animals, and often believes that she is one.

This lady was a judge of the pageant.

She had some words of wisdom when she said, "You know, everyone thinks that beauty pageants are all about the beauty and it's not. You have to have the clothes, the hair and makeup, the photos, the personality, the total package." Ooh, I guess she schooled us. So you have to be artificially beautiful and have personality? I guess the personality part is really important, right?

"For Riley to win, she needs new attire, different hair and makeup…but I mean, she has the personality." Ooooh-Kay.

The third girl featured was 7-year-old Hannah. She is glitz personified.

Mostly, I found her boring, except for the fact that she drinks cup after cup of coffee through a straw.

She won the Grand National Supreme Wizard title in the end, probably because she had a kickass outfit for the "Red Carpet Wear" portion of the competition. The category was described as, "What would you wear on the red carpet to your own movie premiere?" I loved her vision.

She was supposed to be Austin Powers, but I thought she looked more like a Prince protégé. I think the Purple One would have christened her:

This little girl competed in the pageant, but was not really featured in the show. However, I thought she was worth mentioning because her name is Pepper McCormick.

Her parents have some balls, giving her such a spicy name.

But back to the question at hand: Is there such a thing as a heterosexual pageant dad?

Just the idea of it is enough to give you a seizure and make your eyes cross.

She wasn't the only pageant girl the episode focused on, but she completely overshadowed the other girls, due to her haughty, holier-than-thou demeanor and overbearing, demanding relationship with her mother.

The thing is, her mother feeds into Tootie's inflated sense of ego: Her mother calls herself "Tootie's assistant." She "fetches" things for Tootie, does her toes and spray tans. (Madison, on the other hand, is a down-to-earth girl who is happy to play soccer with her dad while wearing jeans. Madison and Tootie are different, even though they are the same kid.)

When Tootie is in "Tootie mode," you had best not call her Madison. Also, she is completely cheesy. Not only did was her "Indian" dance offensive to Native Americans, it was offensive to dancers.

Tootie's mom is basically an enabler; she actually thinks that her bratty little snot of a daughter has a "good attitude." The crazy thing is, Tootie is a little manipulator. She's playing a game.

When asked about her competition — the other girls — Tootie replied, "I don't know. I don't care about 'em." But then smirked. She thinks she is slick.

But actually, in the end, though Tootie won Supreme Queen, she didn't win any of the other big prizes — not Beauty Queen, nor one of the three puppies the pageant was giving away. She's been told she's gorgeous and amazing, so she doesn't seem to know what to think or do when she doesn't succeed. The interviewer asked, "Were you happy when your name was called?" Because, you know, at least she won something. But her face was a twisted mask of confusion and she could only say, "I dunno." And then: "No." Followed by: "Don't put that on TV."

Part of the problem might be that at home, Tootie's picture is on the same level as that of Jesus Christ.

Earlier: Toddlers & Tiaras: A "Diva Moment" Is Actually A Tantrum