By Kai Ma
Photographs by Eric Sueyoshi

It’s a few minutes before Diane Yoo must appear in front of a panel of judges to display her national costume, and she’s nowhere to be found. The pageant staff is frantically running around, hissing at each other, “Where’s Diane? Where is she?” Suddenly Diane appears, gliding across the room like Korean royalty, the seven silk layers of her ethereal hanbok billowing under, then behind her. As she walks up the stairs to meet the judges, her wig falls apart. “Umma!” she yells, her voice piercing through the room. She runs down the stairs and disappears again. The judges move on to the next contestant.

It’s not an ideal start for Diane, the 26-year-old contestant representing Korea for the 20th annual Miss Asia USA pageant, held in June at the Alex Theatre in Glendale, Calif. The pageant is not until the following night, but this event is equally critical: Ten judges are scoring all 31 contestants in the categories of national costume and personality interview. When the contestants convene for the official pageant, they will exhibit their national costumes again, along with their eveningwear and swimsuits, in front of a packed house.

The Miss Asia USA competition is directed by Virgelia Villegas, who describes her pageant as a modern-day charm school. “I’m very strict with the girls,” says Villegas. “I teach fine dining, posing, etiquette, public speaking, social skills, presentation. I train them the old-school way.” The contestants, also called delegates, represent 23 Asian countries ranging from China to Laos, and are between the ages of 17 and 28.

When Diane re-emerges, she walks in front of the judges, poised and elegant, despite her tardiness. She is dressed in a vibrant modernized hanbok, layered in waves of crimson, royal blue, yellow and pink. A straw headpiece is dramatically tilted over a braided wig. (“I wanted to look like a living doll,” Diane later told me.)

After she describes her costume to the judges, Diane saunters back downstairs to the women’s restroom, which she has transformed into her personal, makeshift dressing room. Inside is her make-up artist Taurus Jerome, and the counters are overrun with rouge, curling irons and brushes galore. “It’s all about making her red-carpet-ready,” Jerome says.

Diane must now prepare to meet with the judges again for a brief, timed interview, and starts by unpeeling the layers of her gown, one at a time. “This is what you call a traditional Korean strip show,” she says, before slipping her svelte 5-foot-9-inch figure into a black Marciano mini-dress. As she perches on the counter to have her make-up reapplied, clear and silver stilettos are dangling from her feet. But inside the bathroom, it’s her mother, Joyce Yoo, who reigns.

“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” she says to Diane in Korean, switching to English to say, “Don’t be late again.” She hovers over Diane and Taurus, saying, “Make-up looks pretty but what about the hair? Do you have time? Ahhh … change clothes, hurry!"