It came…it went…and much to the relief of many self-respecting human beings, it passed largely unnoticed—at least by most people on this campus.

What I’m talking about is that dreaded annual event in which droves of Barbie Doll clones prance about on stage like slabs of meat in high heels with their Lee Press-On Personalities and Vaseline smiles, otherwise known as the Miss America Pageant.

The only good thing I can think of about this yearly display of bad taste is that fewer and fewer people seem to be paying any attention to it. So what, you ask? So what if a bunch of cosmetic, girdle-clad wonders want to shed their human dignity on national television?

Well, if you’ll recall, in last year’s contest just prior to the announcement of the winner, one of the contestants took center stage with a banner reading something to the effect of : “Beauty contests exploit women.” This person went out of her way to make a point that has been a long time coming, yet to some extent she missed the mark.

You see, a beauty contest is not some type of evil entity that exploits women. It is a vehicle through which women exploit themselves. Few people really buy the argument that the talent and questioning parts of the contest amount to any real display of intellectual prowess. The focus has always been on the woman’s body, her proportions, her smile and the way she carries herself—much like the livestock at a county fair.

Some women actually believe that these contests are just the ticket they need to break into acting, politics or whatever. Then you hear later of the ones who “win” that they still can’t shed their “bubble-head” image and get people to take them seriously. But if that’s what an individual woman choses to do—fine, exploitation is her choice and her definition.

The unfortunate reality is that women, throughout history, have almost always been assessed on the terms of their figure and how great a hood ornament they’d make for a man. Things are slowly changing but unfortunately women still tend to be sized up by the shape of their bodies first and their mind second, if at all.

Beauty contests, just like Playboy or even Cosmo would like to tell you that there is an ideal woman out there and that’s what females should strive to look like. Miss America, afterall, bears the name of our country, doesn’t she? And for what? Her hairdoo, the length of her legs or the size of her chest? (Oh, and she can sing too).

What’s even more frightening is that many women involved in beauty contests and the like are actually quite intelligent, but that part of them is brushed over for the sake of getting to the swimsuit competition.

The point is, media attention that focuses on women as purely sexual or aesthetic beings with one or two ideal image types are grossly unfair to the real women of everyday life who come in all shapes and sizes, and who would like to be looked at as intelligent, feeling, genuine human beings—not plastic, future-politicians’ wives.

The good news is that few people really care anymore about Miss America, which gives me hope that our society is changing for the better in at least one respect.

My hope is that one day interest in these events will filter out all together along with our society’s obssession with the “perfect” female who simply doesn’t exist. Or at least these “ideals” will no longer be thrust upon women as a whole, and we can enjoy ourselves as we want to be and not as society dictates we should be.

So, if your heart’s desire is to wear a tiarra and cry on national television so you can go on to Disneyland in your Chrystler LeBaron, or whatever it is they’re giving away these days—hey, everyone’s entitled to her dreams.

Somehow, I just can’t help but feel that all the momentary glory in the world isn’t worth the unshakable stigma of being an empty-headed conversation piece.