Two days of strobe lights, thumping pop music, fluorescent smiles and shimmering gowns were grinding toward a dramatic conclusion when Sal Malafronte, a hairstylist and pageant industry veteran, began to reveal the 10 semifinalists who had made the cut at the 2025 Miss Maine USA pageant.
A crowd of about 300 people had gathered Sunday afternoon inside a large ballroom at the Holiday Inn Portland-By the Bay, which had not seen this much excitement since April, when the hotel hosted Furcationland 2025, a convention for people who enjoy dressing as anthropomorphic animal characters.
“And we are going to begin,” Mr. Malafronte said, “with Penobscot, Arianna DeJesus! And Monson, Isabelle St. Cyr!”
Ms. St. Cyr, who channeled Marilyn Monroe vibes in a dress that sparkled like a disco ball, sashayed to the front of the stage where she joined Ms. DeJesus, who was decked out in a yellow gown and her Miss Penobscot sash.
Miss Belfast and Miss Lewiston soon followed. Next up was Miss Hancock, a petite brunette named Jordon Hudson, 24, whose boyfriend, Bill Belichick, sat in the front row to the far right. Ms. Hudson’s relationship with Mr. Belichick, 73, the former coach of the New England Patriots, has been in the news recently, and they were the reason this year’s pageant had morphed from quaint ritual to tabloid spectacle.
Every move that Ms. Hudson made — every gesture, every facial expression — seemed in danger of surfacing on social media. Did she turn and wink in Mr. Belichick’s direction while modeling her green bikini on Saturday? Did she err when a quick spin gave Miss Kennebec County, Siobhan Surette, a face full of Ms. Hudson’s long brown hair on her way off the stage? (Ms. Surette gave Ms. Hudson a wider berth during the evening gown segment.)
On Sunday, after she was named one of five finalists, Ms. Hudson seemed to acknowledge that she was still coping with the fallout from her cameo on “CBS Sunday Morning” last month, when Mr. Belichick, who now coaches the University of North Carolina’s football team, agreed to an interview to promote his new book and Ms. Hudson stepped in to stop a question about their relationship.
“Jordon, come on down!” Mr. Malafronte said at the pageant. “How are you doing?”
“I’m feeling an immense amount of pride right now,” Ms. Hudson said. “I’m hoping that anybody who’s watching this finds the strength to push through whatever it is that they’re going through and embodies that hate never wins.”
The pageant was hosted by Jen Turner, a former Miss Massachusetts USA, and Mr. Malafronte, who worked the room as if he had crashed open-mic night at the Laugh Factory.
For the contestants, though, the pageant was serious business, and each had her own motivations for competing. As a gown-wearing, bikini-modeling collective, they seemed especially courageous this year amid the glare of so much attention.
“I respect anybody who steps into this space with a purpose,” Ms. DeJesus said.
Ms. DeJesus, 21, decided to go for it after she saw an advertisement on Facebook. Vying to become a beauty queen had never been one of her goals, she said. But perhaps that was because women of color have traditionally been underrepresented in the pageant world.
“So I’m excited to show up for the little girl in me who never saw someone like her in this sort of spotlight,” Ms. DeJesus, who identifies as Afro Latino and Native American, said in an interview last week.
Ms. DeJesus teaches at a child-care center, where a glammed-up picture of her as Miss Penobscot created the impression among some of the toddlers that she was actually a princess who was “off to save the world,” she said.
“I let them think what they want!” she said.
For Ms. St. Cyr, a transgender woman, entering the pageant was about fulfilling a “lifelong dream,” she said. She grew up in Howland, a small town in central Maine, before moving to Bangor, where she worked as a makeup artist. She now lives in Monson (population: 609) with her boyfriend, Patrick Scott, a geologist. They have a farm with cows, pigs, chickens, ducks, geese and quail. Ms. St. Cyr, 24, sells eggs at a local market.
Her life was fairly quiet until she entered the pageant. Almost overnight, she said, some people who had been friendly with her began to bully her.
“I don’t think anyone in my town knew that I was trans before all of this happened,” Ms. St. Cyr said. “I think people feel really comfortable saying some nasty things when they hear politicians saying really nasty things. They think that makes it OK.”
But the fraught political climate only motivated Ms. St. Cyr, who made history as the first transgender woman in the pageant. The haters, she said, are always the loudest, and she knew she had support from friends, family and the other contestants.
If there was one thing that bothered Ms. St. Cyr, it was that some publications seemed to pit her directly against Ms. Hudson.
That type of coverage helped foster her suspicion of the news media, but contestants were largely insulated from any intrusion during the event. Outside organizations were barred from taking photographs inside the ballroom — news outlets had the option of purchasing them directly from the pageant for $3,000 — and contestants were prohibited from interacting with reporters.
Mr. Malafronte concluded Saturday’s preliminary festivities by informing members of the audience that they could spend 15 minutes with the contestants before officials whisked them away for a “pajama and pizza party.” He proceeded to ask that “all members of the press” vacate the ballroom so that “the family and friends of our contestants can have some private time.”
When several reporters dawdled — Mr. Belichick had already left via an emergency exit — Mr. Malafronte grew impatient.
“We’re not going to let them off the stage until the press is gone,” he said.
On Sunday, Ms. Hudson placed third, one year after finishing as the runner-up. The crown went to Shelby Howell of Bangor, whose brief news conference was cut short after she was asked two questions that an official stopped her from answering — one about Mr. Belichick’s presence, the other about transgender inclusivity.
By midafternoon, the hotel lobby was clearing out in time for the New England Water Environment Association’s spring meeting. Ms. DeJesus left with her family after taking home a prize as the co-winner of the pageant’s online vote. Ms. St. Cyr, still wearing her sash, found her boyfriend and rolled her small suitcase to a car that was parked outside.
And as Ms. Hudson drove away with Mr. Belichick in a Mercedes SUV, the circus that has surrounded her prepared to move on to wherever she goes next.
