

High heels replace the ballet pumps and faces are clearly made up. Dresses are darker, shorter, more body-hugging.

The atmosphere changes when the 12- to 17-year-olds take the stage. Some strike poses, for a laugh others are more serious. In the stifling heat the young girls stalk up and down the catwalk. "Ms Jouanno makes out we'll turn into prostitutes.

"Please leave us alone to live out our dreams," Barbara pleads. After a song to launch the proceedings, compere Michel Le Parmentier urges the media covering the event to check behind the scenes that there is no make-up and no high heels, "in keeping with our ethical charter".īarbara, 13, last year's Miss Junior Teen, steps up with a message for MPs who are due to debate a bill on gender equality at the end of November and decide whether the "Mini-Miss" amendment, tabled by senator Chantal Jouanno, is voted into law. "They've been preparing for this for so long, parading in front of the mirror, and now it's the big night, the opportunity of a lifetime," Caroline adds. Their mothers add: "If their marks aren't good there's no contest." But surely they are a bit young to be courting failure? "It's tough when you lose, but that's life. Laura is also a motocross enthusiast and wants to be a lawyer. "We're not only judged on appearances, but also the way we walk," Laura says. This is what Camille, Marie and Laura love: playing at being a princess, making new friends. We are treated to a firework display of brightly coloured robes, tulle, feathers, fake gems, fabric flowers and glittering hairdos. A few fathers and brothers are hanging around on the sidelines. In the auditorium the mothers have turned into dressers, and their daughters into princesses. It makes a good outing." Caroline, a housekeeper, agrees: "Here, I get to see people." The kids get gifts and we all end up at McDonald's. "With a day out at a contest we get to see friends, have a laugh and a chat. "I work nights in a drug factory," Myriam explains. They are the ones who started the whole thing, to keep up with their friends. But the dresses are home-made and the girls are pleased. "Up there it costs €5 to €6, here it's €39." Including the petrol, it is quite an outlay. "The price isn't the same," Myriam points out. "This isn't America." The girls average one contest a month, generally in the north of France where they are commonplace. "The people who did that have never been to a contest," Caroline protests. Such events allegedly encourage the "hypersexualisation" of young girls, making them attach too much importance to their appearance.

Myriam and Caroline are wondering what got into the upper house of the French parliament last month when it passed an amendment banning beauty contests for under-16s.
