At Miss Ivory Coast Beauty Pageant, It’s Either Your Natural Hair or You Go Home

No wigs, no weaves — that’s how Ivory Coast’s bold beauty pageant rule is redefining African beauty standards.

The Miss Ivory Coast beauty pageant has long been a spectacle, a celebration of the nation’s pride, culture, and, until now, an almost obligatory embrace of artificial beauty.

For years, the long, flowing wigs and hair extensions that glimmered under the bright lights were seen as symbols of refinement, and contestants didn’t just wear them; they invested heavily in them.

To enter the competition was to engage in a carefully constructed performance, where everything had to be impeccable, from the couture gowns to the flawless hairstyles. The emphasis was placed not just on the woman herself but on the image she portrayed: a carefully curated version of beauty.

However, the winds of change are now sweeping through this world. In December of 2024, the Miss Ivory Coast pageant organizers made an announcement that shocked many: no more wigs or extensions in the preliminary rounds. The new rule is simple but powerful. Contestants are expected to wear their natural hair, whether it’s straightened, braided, or simply left as it is.

There will be no hiding behind layers of synthetic strands or expensive human-hair weaves. This change isn’t just a small modification to the rules; it’s a redefinition of beauty standards in the country and beyond.

Victor Yapobi, the president of the Miss Ivory Coast organizing committee, explained the rationale behind the decision with a sense of pride and purpose. “We want the candidates to be natural whether with braids or straightened hair, it should be their own. Beauty must be raw,” he said. The emphasis here isn’t just on beauty; it’s about authenticity, about returning to something more grounded and real.

For Yapobi and many others, the move is a long-overdue effort to break free from the expectations that often bind women to a one-dimensional idea of beauty, one that’s shaped more by external influences than by what’s natural and true.

This decision is part of a broader trend that’s been building over the past few years. Around the world, the natural hair movement has gained significant momentum, with black women increasingly choosing to embrace their hair in its natural form, free from chemicals, extensions, or wigs. This shift has been empowering for many women, helping to reshape cultural narratives around beauty, professionalism, and self-worth.

In Ivory Coast, this pageant rule change feels like the culmination of a quiet revolution —one that celebrates African beauty in its purest form. Yet, despite the positive response from some, the change has stirred up considerable debate.

The controversy lies in the tension between personal choice and societal expectations. Many women in Ivory Coast and across West Africa consider wigs and extensions not just as tools for beauty but as essential forms of self-expression.

Wigs and weaves are often referred to as “protective styles,” designed to shield the natural hair from damage caused by daily manipulation. They allow for versatility, creativity, and a way to experiment with looks that would otherwise be impossible without the use of chemicals or harsh styling techniques.

For some women, wigs are a way to step outside the rigid confines of “natural hair” expectations. They are, in many ways, a tool for liberation, offering the freedom to change one’s appearance at will, without fear of judgment.

Emmanuella Dali, a 21-year-old real estate agent and one of the contestants in the preliminary rounds, expressed how the new rule gave her a sense of pride. “I would see other girls with long, artificial hair, and they looked so beautiful,” she said. “This rule gives me more pride as a woman; as an African woman.”

For Emmanuella and many like her, the rule change feels like a chance to stand in their own authenticity, to celebrate their heritage, and to redefine beauty on their own terms. In a world where black beauty has often been underrepresented or misrepresented, the Miss Ivory Coast pageant’s decision to embrace natural hair feels like an empowering affirmation of the beauty that lies within.

However, not everyone is as enthusiastic. Some contestants, like Astrid Menekou, a 24-year-old make-up artist, were initially taken aback by the change. “I’m a wig fan. I love wigs,” she confided in BBC. “I didn’t expect this rule! But now? I like my hair, and that’s OK.” For her, and others who cherish the creative possibilities that wigs offer, the ban on synthetic hair feels like an imposition on personal expression.

What’s often overlooked is how wigs and extensions provide a means for women to experiment with their look, adding an element of artistry to their appearance. For many, the idea that beauty should be confined to “natural” expressions can feel limiting and restrictive.

The conversation doesn’t stop at personal preference; it also extends to economic implications. The hair industry in the Ivory Coast is a multi-million-dollar sector, with wigs made from human hair fetching prices anywhere between $200 to $4,000, while synthetic wigs are more affordable but still represent a significant investment.

Hairdressers, like Ange Sea, a salon owner in Daloa, are concerned that this new rule will negatively impact their business. “Many women love wigs. This will hurt our business, and we make more money when working with wigs and weaves,” she lamented to BBC. For these hair professionals, wigs represent more than just a trend—they’re a livelihood. This ban threatens to alter the very fabric of an industry that has become a vital part of the local economy.

This issue also speaks to a larger cultural shift taking place not just in Ivory Coast, but across the African continent. Despite the growing acceptance of natural hair globally, there remains a deeply ingrained belief in many parts of Africa that “straight” or “Western” beauty is the ideal. In many professional settings, natural hair is still seen as “unprofessional,” a sentiment that has perpetuated the demand for wigs and extensions.

Florence Edwige Nanga, a trichologist in Abidjan, noted that while natural hair products are becoming more widely available and more women are opting for natural styles, the bias against natural hair is still alive and well in the professional world. “Turn on the TV, and you’ll see almost every journalist wearing a wig,” she pointed out.

By prohibiting wigs and weaves, the Miss Ivory Coast pageant is trying to shift this narrative, challenging entrenched standards of beauty and professionalism. It’s a statement about moving away from the notion that women’s beauty is something to be hidden, altered, or reshaped to fit an ideal that often isn’t theirs to begin with.

The Miss Côte d’Ivoire committee has implemented additional changes to promote inclusivity. The minimum height requirement has been reduced to 1.67 meters, the age limit extended to 28 years, and the entrance fee lowered to $50. Yapobi explained, “This change in criteria is because we observed these young women were putting up a lot of money to participate, and it was becoming a bit of a budget drain.”

The road to Miss Côte d’Ivoire 2025 officially began on February 15, marking the start of a nationwide celebration of beauty, culture, and identity. Spanning from February 15 to May 10, the pre-selection tour has been making vibrant stops across 13 cities including Odienné, after launching in Daloa.

The grand finale is set to take place on June 28, 2025, at the Parc des Expositions in Abidjan, where the impact of the pageant’s groundbreaking new rules will be on full display.

As the nation counts down to the big night, conversations are heating up, not just about who will wear the crown, but about how beauty standards are evolving in Côte d’Ivoire.

With new pageant rules that focus on realness, confidence, and cultural pride, this year’s event is set to redefine beauty and shine a global spotlight on Côte d’Ivoire’s rich heritage.

Photo: Instagram/comitemissci