While America had chosen Miss Marguerite Frey to be its new beauty, other countries and cities were eager to promote their own winners.

With a little musical accompaniment, if you’d like:

Australia chose Miss Alice Buckridge. The type here was so faint, I was lucky to be able to read her name, but the picture is intact and she does look classically lovely.

 

Spain chose her winner as well.   “The great beauty quest in Spain is over,” Blanco y Negro, the illustrated newspaper, pronounced as they revealed the identity of the most beautiful woman in Spain. She was Dona Petra Herce. 

The rules for joining the contest in Spain were more strict than those in other countries. “The candidates must be maids (read: unmarried) and Spanish, older than fourteen and younger than thirty—-professional beauties being barred.”

They also had a defined process to win. A jury formed of renowned artists, sculptors, critics of art, photographers, and editors examined all the photographs chose the final four. Those photos were published and the public selected  “the most beautiful to uphold the honor of Spain in the great world beauty quest.”

The fact Spain was so transparent about how their contest was judged highlights the fact that no one else was. How the other winners were selected was a mysterious process indeed. This supports an astute comment from Judy in our Old Spirituals community: “The winner of each contest had the wealthiest, most influential daddy or hubby.”

At least we know Dona Petra Herce was on the up and up!

 

Next we have Canada’s great beauty, Violet Wood. What a beautiful name she had and a delicately beautiful face!

Scotland’s choice was Miss Nettie Chaddock. Miss Chaddock seems to me to look very much a woman of the age, beautiful with a faraway demeanor.

This is Mme Henri Letellier. Did Paris ever idolize her! I can’t do justice to it so I’ll quote them:

“There is a pair of eyes the violet depths of which Paris, city of beauty loves. There is a pair of hands, wonderful in contour, idyllic in formation, soft of touch, that Paris idolizes. There is a pair of fulsome, fervid lips over which Paris raves. There is a face, a wealth of hair, a figure before which the memory of Venus de Milo fades and the beauties of mythology take their places where they belong—in the forgotten past.

“A new goddess of human loveliness has been found, and Paris, impulsive, enthusiastic, ever seeking onward in its wild desire for greater, more wondrous fascination, has at last leaned back and rested. Mme. Henri Letellier has satisfied the changeful city’s hungry soul. She is beautiful: she is marvelous to Parisians; she is all to be desired; she is the ideal.”

 

Lastly and rather humorously, I learned Iowa and the city of St. Louis selected their own most beautiful women.  As far as I can tell, no other state or city did so. But why let that stop you?

These ladies did not have the glamour of others in this post. Not for them the sophisticated elegance of Paris’ Mme Letellier nor the fragile loveliness of Canada’s Violet Wood.  But they were lovely.

Iowa selected Mrs. Dorothy Vernon Cash. She was a product of her time, but there’s a distinctive bit of Iowa-ness to her, isn’t there? She looks like she could slaughter a pig but still be a young woman who could pull off an elaborate hairstyle and be a kind person.

St. Louis, meanwhile, went with Jeanette Wilson.

Miss Wilson looks like she would be a more daring soul than Iowa’s Mrs. Cash. At least, she has rebellious eyes. If I was feeling really daring, I would say she might even be a better representative for America overall than Miss Marguerite Frey.

Beauty contests have been a nice break but I feel compelled to write a true crime post again soon!