Jenna Talackova prepares for an interview at the Miss Universe Contest in Toronto on May 12, 2012. |
Lean and leggy, Jenna Talackova milks the moment. The moment never dreamed possible by a child fascinated with beauty pageants. The moment that almost didn’t happen whenTalackova was disqualified for not being a “naturally born female.”
But there she is, all 6-foot-1, long blond wavy hair, at the Miss Universe Canada contest. Talackova, 23, wearing the standard-issue red backless dress and strappy stilettos, sashays across the stage, big smile, eye contact with the audience. They cheer. About to exit, she adds a signature touch, a saucy twirl of her skirt, a move utterly female.
“She’s gorgeous. When I saw her in a bathing suit, I didn’t know any difference,” says Natalie Hope, 35, at the preliminaries Thursday in Toronto. “Transgendered contestants could have advantages, such as height. I’m torn. It’s not right to discriminate.”
Some supporters of the other 61 contestants complained that so much attention is focused on one candidate, albeit the one making history. Along with the controversy, this year’s pageant — the finals are Saturday night — has attracted twice the amount of media. CNN, the U.S. showInside Edition and two TV crews from Japan set up cameras.
And so Talackova from Vancouver, a student of holistic nutrition, continues as cause célèbre.In Talackova’s comeback battle, high-profile U.S. civil rights lawyer Gloria Allred represented her, ABC’s Barbara Walters (who pronounced Talackova “a knockout”) interviewed her, as did others, inquiring about intimate anatomical details. Finally last month, pageant owner Donald Trump reinstated Talackova, earning her, if nothing else, the title of transgender trailblazer.
“I want to give my best performance. If it works out, great. If not, I’m so proud of myself. I’ve won in so many ways,” she told the press during a week of rehearsals and a few appearances.
Born male and named Walter, Talackova knew early on she was in the wrong body. When no one was around, she’d parade in her mother’s heels. By grade eight, her clothes of choice were feminine. She was never beaten up, but endured bullying, name-calling.
Her father is Czechoslovakian and her mother is aboriginal, from Lake Babine Nation in B.C. From a young age, Talackova admired her uncle, Thomas Perry, who taught the child about native medicine, spirituality — and the inner strength to rise again.
“He was a drug addict, a thief,” she explains. “But he changed his life around and became a medicine man, healing people with herbs he found in the forest.”
Talackova is wearing a halter-style bikini and clutching a robe, as the group bathing suit photo shoot ends. She’s friendly warm, and seems pleased to talk about her uncle. She recalled being 10 years old and attending a sweat lodge with him.
“It’s very dark with rocks in the middle, steam going off. Everyone is in a circle. We go around saying a prayer, what we want the Creator to help with. It gets to me and I say, ‘Dear Creator, please give me my hormones.’ And they’re all like, ‘Give Jenna the hormones, heya, heya, heya.’ ”
Her uncle, now deceased, is always in her heart, she says. “In this competition, I feel him.”
Talackova got the hormones at age 14.
“It wasn’t a matter of convincing my parents, it was more telling them, ‘Do you want to see me happy or die inside?’ ”
At age 19 Talackova went through sex-reassignment surgery.
She revels in her new life and body. She has a boyfriend, but declines to give any details, and would like to have two children someday.
“I also have a glamorous, diva-ish side,” says Talackova, who blows kisses at cameras. She wants to be a Victoria’s Secret or Sports Illustrated model. “Go big or go home,” she laughs.
The controversy erupted this spring after a blogger recognized her from a transsexual beauty contest in Thailand and posted about it. Miss Universe organizers gave Talackova the boot.
As the media circled, she contacted Vancouver publicist Rory Richards, who cold-called Los Angeles women’s rights lawyer Allred. A Canadian woman wanted to take on Trump.
Allred saw the case as blatant discrimination. A beauty pageant is a career opportunity. “I thought Jenna would be a strong role model,” says Allred, here to attend the pageant. “She wasn’t trying to hide who she was. She just wanted to be treated equally.”
At one point, says Richards, it hit Talackova: she could never go back to a quiet, stealth life.
“I don’t think Jenna lives in regret. She’s forward-looking, positive.”
The publicist recalls the young woman’s television appearance on The View, with its alpha female interviewers.
“Jenna wasn’t on 30 seconds before they were talking about her genitalia. So you had a penis — what do you look like with your clothes off,” says Richards, paraphrasing the hosts.
“I was with Jenna’s mother in the green room, lumps in our throats,” she says. “Jenna handled it fine.”
Allred wants Trump to change the rules for Miss Universe pageants in all countries. “I think Jenna is a civil rights pioneer. I’m very proud of her courage.”
In Toronto, some transgendered women find Talackova inspirational; others are less thrilled, worried about the beauty pageant message, says Morgan M. Page, trans services co-ordinator at 519 Church Street Community Centre.
“What’s not mixed is that she absolutely deserves to be in the pageant if she chooses.”
Page transitioned as Talackova did. “We went through a lot of hell,” she explains. “When you come out the other end, you want to celebrate.”
And so she has in Toronto. Talackova seems part of the girls’ club, snapping pictures of the other women on her pink iPhone.
“Some people give off good energy, some negative,” says contestant Alina Tsymbalarou, 25. “Jenna is definitely the good energy type.”
In a canary-yellow blazer, tank-top dress and white sash, Talackova strolls the Eaton Centre. All 62 contestants are shopping, but cameramen trail Talackova through the aisles of lacy bras at Victoria’s Secret, the rude crush accorded a star.
All goes swimmingly as she looks for a bikini. A security guard nearly falls backward watching her go up the escalator. A television in a café flashes a shot of her. “Oh my God, there I am,” she says.
Shoppers ask for a picture. She happily obliges.
“I recognized her face from the news,” explains Steven Jin, 19. “I think her story is cool.”
On hearing his comment, Talackova is touched. “Ah, beautiful.”
Not so beautiful near the end. A woman with wispy hair sidles up to Talackova. “I know transgendered people and they don’t look like you,” she oddly blurts out, then asks about the pageant: “Are people upset about it?”
“Like who?” Talackova asks.
“You had the surgery,” the stranger presumptuously plows on. Talackova goes quiet, stony. Fortunately, it’s time to leave.
“You set that up?” she asks a reporter, who assures her she didn’t.
After a few minutes, she’s all congeniality, pageant ready. “You don’t get the sun without the rain,” she says. “That’s how my story went.”
No comments:
Post a Comment