A long-running debate on gender, tradition, and inclusion in global beauty pageants resurfaced after a candid discussion sparked by entertainment insider Ogie Diaz. The question he posed was direct and emotionally charged: Should transgender women be allowed to compete in long-established international pageants traditionally reserved for biological women?

“Agree ba kayo sa pag-join ng isang transwoman sa mga prestigious pageants tulad ng Miss Universe or Miss International?” Diaz asked—opening the floor to sharply contrasting perspectives.
(“Do you agree with a transwoman joining prestigious pageants like Miss Universe or Miss International?”)

One of the most outspoken responses came from former beauty queen Juliana Parizcova, who reiterated a stance she said she had already expressed years earlier.

“Ako hindi, kasi noon pa 2018 pa lang sinagot na namin ’yan. Iba ’yung culture natin, iba ’yung respeto natin sa mga tunay na babae… Choice mong pagdaanan ’yan kasi nga choice mong maging mukhang babae. Pero ang pinag-uusapan natin dito ’yung biological woman. Kanila ’yun eh, kanilang pageant ’yun.”
(“I don’t agree, because as early as 2018, we already answered that. Our culture is different, our respect for real women is different… That’s your choice to go through because it’s your choice to look like a woman. But what we’re talking about here is the biological woman. That pageant belongs to them.”)

Parizcova emphasized that, for her, the issue centers on biological womanhood and the original intent of certain pageant systems.

“So isipin mo, kung ikaw, isang bading ka na mukha kang babae. Maganda ka, tapos sumali ako. Natalo kita, anong [magiging] feeling nun? Di ba masakit?”
(“So think about it, if you’re a gay person who looks like a woman. You’re beautiful, then I join and I beat you. How would that feel? Wouldn’t that hurt?”)

On the other side of the conversation was Matmat Centino, who acknowledged her personal preference while ultimately defending inclusion and choice.

“I’ll go for a biological woman. Kami, may Miss International queen naman. Pero ang sa akin namang punto, para maiba man lang. Sino ako para humarang sa pangarap ng isang indibidwal?”
(“I’ll go for a biological woman. We already have a Miss International queen. But my point is, just to make things different. Who am I to block an individual’s dream?”)

Centino stressed that permission and openness should guide modern pageantry.

“Kung allowed naman siya bakit hindi? Ang bawat pageant kasi ang pinaka-goal d’yan is mission and vision is celebrating womanhood. And whatever type of woman who you are. When you are allowed then definitely it’s all out there to accept and to embrace you.”
(“If it’s allowed, why not? Every pageant’s main goal, its mission and vision, is celebrating womanhood—whatever type of woman you are. When you are allowed, then it’s all about accepting and embracing you.”)

The exchange reflects a broader global tension within pageantry—between tradition and transformation, definition and self-identification. As organizations like Miss Universe evolve their eligibility rules, while others such as Miss International remain more conservative, the debate continues to challenge how womanhood is defined, celebrated, and protected on the world stage.

What remains clear is that pageantry, once seen as purely glamorous, has become a powerful mirror of society’s most complex conversations—where crowns now carry not just beauty, but belief, identity, and deeply personal truths.