On March 9, 2024, the Miss World 2023 pageant was held to choose a beauty queen once again. The crown went to Krystyna Pyszková of the Czech Republic. To honor this event, we decided to take a look at the history of the contest and find out how the jury’s approach to assessing women’s beauty has changed over the decades.
1950s: it all started with a scandal.
Kiki Håkansson (Sweden), Miss World 1951
In 1951, as part of the Festival of Britain, the Festival Bikini Contest was held, which journalists later named Miss World. This event became a scandal because in those days a bikini was considered indecent.
Swedish beauty Kikki Håkansson became the winner of this first pageant. And to this day, she remains the only winner to have received her crown while wearing a bikini. Later, the finalists would wear a one-piece swimsuit or evening gown to the awards ceremony.
Denise Perrier (France), Miss World 1953, and Marita Lindahl (Finland), Miss World 1957
Despite the 1951 bikini scandal, the contest founder Eric Morley was pleased with the public attention and decided to hold the pageant annually. His requirements for potential participants were as follows: single women without children aged 17 to 27.
Corine Rottschäfer (Netherlands), Miss World 1959
In 1959, a major British television channel agreed to broadcast the pageant, thus making it even more popular. Corine Rottschäfer found herself in a delicate situation before the awarding ceremony when she discovered that her evening gown had holes in it. Another contestant lent Corine the dress and eventually finished third, while Corine became the winner.
1960s: Miss World is gaining momentum.
Katharina Lodders (Netherlands), Miss World 1962
In the 1960s, the Miss World pageant became one of the most watched television shows. The cash prize for the winner was increased from £500 to £2,500. In 1961, the requirements for contestants were also changed: the upper age limit was now 25 years old.
Katharina Lodders, who was crowned in 1962, addressed these criteria in her own way. On collecting the award, she said out loud, «I don’t think I’m the most beautiful girl in the world — I am the most beautiful girl here.»
Ann Sidney (Great Britain), Miss World 1964
In 1964, the winner was Ann Sidney, who later made a career in the movie industry. By the way, Morley introduced a new rule that same year: he forbade the mothers of contestants to accompany their daughters. The reason why was because the mother of one of the girls caused a lot of inconvenience to the organizers, getting involved in their work.
Reita Faria (India), Miss World 1966
In the late 1960s, the contest became even bigger. In 1966, Morley sent invitations to more than 70 countries, 66 of which were happy to respond. And in 1968, for the first time in the history of the event, a married girl was allowed to participate. In the 1970s, however, a strict criterion for the marital status of contestants was reintroduced: single only, period.
1970s: feminists change the essence of the pageant.
Jennifer Hosten (Grenada), Miss World 1970
The beginning of the decade was marked by a new scandal. In 1970, a week before the pageant, British feminists claimed that Miss World objectified women and threatened to interrupt the show. And they did it. When the event was in full swing, some female guests rose from their seats and began to blow whistles, jingle rattles and shout slogans. Later, the movie Misbehaviour starring Keira Knightley was based on these events.
In 1970, Jennifer Hosten won the crown. She became the first black woman to win it.
Marie Stävin (Sweden), Miss World 1977, and Silvana Suárez (Argentina), Miss World 1978
The conflict with feminists forced the organizers to think about the message the pageant was sending to the world. And in 1972, Eric Morley and his wife announced that the event would now be held under the slogan «Beauty With a Purpose.» The contestants were also required to present their charity projects to the jury.
1980s: «Beauty With a Purpose»
Mariasela Álvarez (Dominican Republic), Miss World 1982
In the 1980s, the slogan «Beauty With a Purpose» got another meaning: new tests of intelligence and personality were added to the contest program. In the eyes of the judges, the contestants’ personal qualities became as important as their looks.
Giselle Laronde (Trinidad and Tobago), Miss World 1986
In the second half of the decade, the contest became criticized again. The public in different countries didn’t like the fact that girls were judged only by representatives of Western countries. And in 1986, Morley decided to hold the preliminaries of the contest in Macau and give the Eastern judges the opportunity to select the contestants. The winner that year was Giselle Laronde from Trinidad and Tobago. This was the first time a representative of this country won the crown.
Ulla Weigerstorfer (Austria), Miss World 1987
And in 1987, the organizers ignored their own rule that allowed to participate girls aged only 17 to 25 and let a 26-year-old beauty to compete for the crown. Later, the upper age limit would be made 27 again.
1990s: crisis
Aishwarya Rai (India), Miss World 1994
In the early 1990s, the popularity of the contest began to decline, and major TV channels stopped broadcasting it. But Morley wasn’t going to give up and managed to find ways to organize the contest at a lower cost.
Yukta Mookhey (India), Miss World 1999
In the second half of the decade, the organizers decided to gather a jury of representatives of different professions from all over the world in order to increase the interest of the audience. So, now beauties were judged by actors and actresses, athletes, magazine editors, and top models from different countries.
2000s: a woman takes the reins.
Agbani Darego (Nigeria), Miss World 2001
In 2000, Eric Morley passed away, so his wife Julia took on her husband’s work and decided to make some adjustments. For example, she called the pageant «stupid and horrible» and promised to make it «more positive» for women. She condemned the part of the show where girls had to first parade around in swimsuits and then give interviews about their life ambitions. «Not because I thought there was something wrong, horrible, and unnatural about swimsuits, but I thought you generally don’t feel comfortable if someone is interviewing you in a tux, and you are in a bathing suit,» Julia said.
Rosanna Davison (Ireland), Miss World 2003, and Kaiane Aldorino (Gibraltar), Miss World 2009
In 2004, Julia Morley surpassed her spouse by managing to gather a then record number of participating countries — 107 girls took part in the competition.
2010s: no swimsuits
Megan Young (Philippines), Miss World 2013
In 2013, the contestants traveled to Bali. It was the first time the event was held in Southeast Asia. Also, for the first time in the history of the contest, a girl from the Philippines, Megan Young, won the crown.
Manushi Chhillar (India), Miss World 2017
Julia Morley, who had previously voiced her discontent with overly revealing costumes of contestants,
decided to remove the swimsuit competition from the pageant in 2015. She said, «We are really not looking at her bottom. We are really listening to her speak.»
2020s: what’s next?
Karolina Bielawska (Poland), Miss World 2021
The first event of the new decade wasn’t really big. In 2022, the number of countries participating in the contest was the smallest since 2003 — only 97. The winner was Karolina Bielawska from Poland. Next time, the Miss World jury gathered in 2024 and crowned Krystyna Pyszková from the Czech Republic.
Krystyna Pyszková (Czech Republic), Miss World 2023
Since modern trends criticize various beauty standards, there is a possibility that the Miss World organizers will choose to stop using any selection criteria for future contestants, following the example of Miss Universe. In 2023, the latter removed the upper age limit for contestants. And since Julia Morley suggests that it is personality that should be evaluated, we are sure that changes in the contest are not long to wait.
Speaking about Miss Universe. Here’s what 16 Miss Universe winners look like now.
Preview photo credit Harry Pot / Nationaal Archief / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 3.0 NL DEED, Historia de la belleza / Wikimedia Commons, EAST NEWS, Rajanish Kakade / Associated Press / East News
My Husband’s Ex-Wife Demanded I Pay The Bills After His Death – She Regretted That I Fulfilled Her Whims
When my husband passed away, I thought grief would be my hardest battle. I was wrong. His ex-wife, Camila, turned my loss into her opportunity, DEMANDING I PAY ALL HER BILLS. Her relentless greed drained me, but I never imagined it would lead to her BIGGEST REGRET one day.
Grief doesn’t come in neat little packages. It’s messy, raw, and relentless. When Joseph — my husband, partner, and best friend — passed away two weeks before Christmas, it felt like the world had been ripped from under me. I had Nathan, our 15-year-old son, to think about. But most days, even breathing felt impossible.
A grieving woman holding a man’s framed photo | Source: Midjourney
Joseph was the kind of man who brought light to every room. He loved fiercely and gave generously, even to people who didn’t deserve it… like his ex-wife, Camila. They had one son together, Marcus, but Camila had three other children from different relationships.
Joseph, being the man he was, made sure to treat all four kids like his own. Birthdays, holidays, school events — he was always there, always giving, and caring.
The day after the funeral, I got an email from Camila. At first, I thought it might be condolences, but of course, that would’ve been too much to expect. Instead, it was a CHRISTMAS LIST. She wanted gifts for her kids, claiming, “It’s what Joseph would’ve wanted.”
A woman holding a cellphone | Source: Midjourney
When my phone rang moments later, I knew it was her. Her voice dripped with a false sympathy that made my skin crawl.
“Wendy, darling,” Camila’s tone was saccharine sweet, “I hope you’re not overwhelmed by that list. Joseph always made sure my kids were taken care of during Christmas.”
I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. “Camila, I’m barely holding myself together right now.”
She let out a calculated laugh. “Well, it’s not the children’s fault! They shouldn’t suffer just because Joseph isn’t here to help anymore.”
“Camila, you don’t understand. He just passed and—” I desperately voiced, but she cut me off.
“Oh, come now. Joseph would want you to honor his memory by continuing his traditions. Those children are expecting their gifts. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them, would you?”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
The manipulation was transparent, yet it cut deep. “These are your children, too,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
“They’re JOSEPH’S children,” she corrected sharply. “Well, Marcus is. But the others… they’ve grown to love him so much. And you know how much he loved them all. I’m sure you want to prove what a good stepmother you can be. After all, he married you knowing I would always be in the picture.”
I should’ve ignored her. I should’ve said no. But then I thought about the kids. It wasn’t their fault. So, I swallowed my pride, and through tears, I went shopping for their gifts, together with my son.
Christmas came and went in a blur of grief and forced smiles. But Camila wasn’t done. Her demands became a relentless cascade, each request more audacious than the last.
A cheerful woman with a pile of gift boxes | Source: Midjourney
By February, it was piano lessons. When she called, her voice was a calculated blend of sweetness and authority. “Wendy, darling, Joseph always wanted Marcus to have music lessons. You wouldn’t want to disappoint his son, would you?”
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of her manipulation. “Camila, I’m struggling to keep things together—”
“The kids shouldn’t have to miss out,” she interrupted. “Think about what Joseph would want.”
By Easter, it was summer camp fees. Her call came with surgical precision. “These experiences are so important for children’s development. Joseph always believed in giving kids opportunities.”
“I can’t keep doing this,” I whispered.
“Oh, Wendy,” she laughed, “you know Joseph would be heartbroken if his children missed out because of financial constraints.”
A frustrated woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
Then came the moment that broke something inside me. One day, she called, her voice dripping with honey. “Wendy, I hate to ask, but my back has been killing me. The doctor says surgery could help me be a better mom. The medical bills are astronomical, and with Joseph gone…”
Her pause was deliberate, weighted with expectation.
Of course, I paid. What else could I do? Nathan watched me, his eyes filled with pity and frustration. “Mom, why do you keep giving her money?” he’d asked once. I had no answer.
But weeks later, I stumbled across her Facebook post:
“Lipo & a tummy tuck done! Feeling FABULOUS! 🥳💃🏻“
I gripped my phone so hard, I thought it might shatter. She’d used my money for PLASTIC SURGERY. Not a medical procedure, not something for her children, but pure vanity. I felt sick, the betrayal cutting deeper than any knife.
A shocked woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
Nathan walked in and saw my expression. “Mom?” he asked cautiously. “What’s wrong?”
And in that moment, something inside me began to shift. A resolve. An anger.
Still, I didn’t stop helping Camila. There were kids involved — kids who came to me with scraped knees and teenage heartbreaks. Kids who hugged me tight and called me “Aunt Wendy.” They weren’t responsible for their mother’s schemes.
But then, a new demand landed in my inbox shortly after: a trip to Paris for her and the kids. The email was a masterpiece of manipulation. She sweetly reminded me, “Joseph always believed in family vacations. He wouldn’t have let the kids go without one.”
Close-up shot of a woman holding a smartphone | Source: Midjourney
I sat with that email for hours, my frustration boiling over. Nathan was battling leukemia at the time. Medical bills were drowning me, treatments were astronomical, and every single penny was a fight for survival.
The last thing I could afford was funding my husband’s ex’s extravagant getaway.
When I finally called her, my voice shook with anger and desperation. “Camila, I can’t do this anymore. I’m barely keeping my head above water as it is.”
Her laugh was cold and calculated. “Barely keeping your head above water? Oh, Wendy, you forget I know exactly how much life insurance Joseph left you. This is pocket change for you.”
A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Pocket change?” I almost screamed. “I’m spending every cent on Nathan’s treatment. He’s fighting for his life!”
Her tone hardened immediately. “So, the kids should suffer because of your POOR PLANNING? Wow, Wendy, I expected better from you. Joseph would be so disappointed.”
The mention of Joseph’s name was a punch to my gut.
“You have no shame,” I whispered.
“I have four children to think about,” she retorted. “What would people say if they knew you — Joseph’s wife — refused to help his children?”
I hung up and tears of frustration burned my eyes.
An emotional woman lost in deep thought | Source: Midjourney
But as the days passed, the guilt gnawed at me. I could hear Joseph’s voice in my head, urging me to do what I could for the kids. His kindness, his generosity… they were weapons Camila knew how to wield perfectly.
Against my better judgment, I paid for the trip, hoping and PRAYING that this would be the last of her demands.
Of course, it wasn’t.
Nathan’s battle with leukemia was brutal. Chemo, hospital stays, and sleepless nights consumed every part of me. But even then, Camila’s relentless demands didn’t stop. She was like a vulture, circling, and waiting to pick at whatever remained of my willpower.
A sick boy in the hospital | Source: Midjourney
“Wendy, I need help with groceries,” she’d say, her voice dripping with false vulnerability.
“Wendy, the kids need new laptops for school,” another call would come.
“Wendy, our washing machine broke,” she’d whine, as if the world would end without my intervention.
Each call came with a new crisis, each one tugging at my frayed patience. The subtext was always clear: Joseph would have helped. Joseph always provided. Joseph would be disappointed in me.
A phone on a table flashing an incoming call | Source: Midjourney
I kept helping, telling myself it was for the kids. But with each request, a part of me died. A part of me resented the memory of Joseph’s infinite kindness that Camila so ruthlessly exploited.
And then, she pushed too far. “Wendy,” she said one day, her tone annoyingly casual, like she was asking for sugar, “we need help remodeling the kitchen. It’s falling apart.”
Something inside me snapped.
“Camila, I’m NOT funding your HGTV dreams. I can barely afford Nathan’s treatments!”
The silence that followed was electric.
She gasped, a performance of pure outrage. “I can’t believe how SELFISH you’ve become. Joseph would be ASHAMED.”
Those words. Always those words.
A furious woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Joseph is DEAD,” I said, the words feeling like broken glass in my mouth. “And you’ve been treating his memory like a credit card.”
Her gasp was theatrical. “How dare you—”
“No,” I interrupted, “how dare YOU? For years, you’ve manipulated me, guilt-tripped me, and drained every resource I have while my son fights for his life.”
She tried to interject, but I was done.
“I’m sorry, Camila,” I said coldly, each word precise and cutting. “I can’t help you anymore.” And I hung up.
She called back, left voicemails that grew increasingly desperate, and sent emails that ranged from manipulative to outright threatening. But I ignored her. Nathan needed me more than her fabricated crises.
A boy lying down in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney
Several weeks passed. Thankfully, my son won his fight with leukemia, but Camila wasn’t so lucky. Her extravagant spending and piling debts finally caught up with her. Her new husband (an aspiring musician who contributed nothing to the household) left, creditors circled, and her life imploded.
She tried reaching out to me, sending long, teary emails about how hard things were. She even called, begging for help. But I didn’t respond.
Through it all, her kids drifted toward me. They saw the truth about their mother, and saw who had been there for them all along. They started calling me “Mom.” And while Camila’s world crumbled, mine grew stronger.
A frustrated woman yelling | Source: Midjourney
Ten years flew by. On Christmas Eve, I found myself in a hospital bed recovering from heart surgery. The kids — Nathan and all four of Camila’s — had promised to visit, but I didn’t expect much. They were busy with their own lives now.
Then my phone rang. It was Camila.
I hesitated but answered. “Hello?”
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” She shrieked.
“Excuse me?”
“You turned my children against me!”
“Camila, I don’t understand what you’re talking about…”
But then the door burst open, and her oldest son, Marcus, swiftly took the phone from my hand. His touch was gentle, but his eyes burned with a protective fury I’d never seen before.
A startled woman engaged in a phone call | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, you need to rest. We’ll talk to her later,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he ended the call. The way he said “her” made it clear he was distancing himself from any maternal connection to Camila.
Four of my “foster” kids and my Nathan crowded into my hospital room, their faces radiant with love and warmth. Marcus stepped forward first, setting down an elaborate bouquet of white roses that looked carefully chosen. The younger ones followed, their arms filled with colorful balloons that bobbed and danced with their movement.
“We wouldn’t miss this for the world, Mom,” Nathan said.
“Oh, my darlings!” I exclaimed, tears welling up in my eyes. “You shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble!”
An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney
They surrounded my bed in a massive group hug, their collective embrace feeling like a shield of love and protection. The youngest, tears glistening in her eyes, whispered, “We’re family. We take care of each other.”
Marcus squeezed my hand. “Christmas isn’t Christmas without you. So we’re taking you home.”
The others nodded in unison.
That evening, they whisked me home. We sat around the fireplace, sharing stories and memories.
“What happened to your mother?” I asked cautiously. “She sounded so furious when she called.”
They exchanged glances before Marcus spoke up. “After you stopped supporting her, she tried to guilt us into giving her money. She even said, ‘You owe me. I raised you!’” He shook his head. “We stopped answering her calls.”
A frustrated young man | Source: Pexels
“She’s become desperate,” another added. “Calling old friends and distant relatives, trying to get money.”
“She tried to sue a cosmetic surgeon,” another chimed in, laughing. “But that didn’t go well.”
The youngest looked at me, her eyes deep with emotion. “We learned what real love looks like from you. Not from her.”
“She saw people as transactions,” Marcus added, squeezing my hand gently. “You showed us that love has no price tag.”
“She’s alone now,” another said softly. “But we’re here, Mom. We’re with you.”
A distressed teenage girl | Source: Pexels
I looked around the table, my heart brimming with joy and peace. Christmas isn’t about gifts or obligations. It’s about the family you build, and the people who choose to stay, love, and grow with you.
For the first time in years, I felt truly at peace. As for Camila, I really don’t care about her now. She can live with her regrets, but I hope that someday, she realizes the depth of the damage she’s done to herself by being greedy and manipulative.
An emotional, teary-eyed senior woman | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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