1st Cosplayer to Win Beauty Pageant: Breaking Otaku Limits in Japan

Entering Despite My Situation

To be honest, I never planned to enter a beauty pageant. At the time, I was battling severe depression—sleeping anywhere from 19 to 22 hours a day. Life felt heavy. I was exhausted, mentally and emotionally, after leaving a toxic work environment that had drained me of joy and confidence.

Then, by what I can only describe as the grace of God, an email landed in my inbox: a chance to enter the Mrs. of the Year beauty pageant. God knew I needed this. What began as a spontaneous “yes” to something new turned into one of the most transformative experiences of my life. This pageant became a lifeline—an opportunity to not only showcase my cosplay skills, but to rebuild my spirit, make new connections, and slowly begin healing.

I never mentioned my depression to the judges or organizers. I didn’t want sympathy. I wanted my win to be earned—on the strength of my creativity, performance, and presence. I firmly believe even if you are dealing with depression you can still achieve great things.

So when I walked into the pageant, I wasn’t just walking onto a stage—I was walking back into my life.

Never Forget to be Kind

I didn’t know what I was getting into or even what to expect when I was told to be prepared to speak and walk on stage on May 5th. The night before, I went through my closet and pulled out a gold formal dress I had bought for my birthday a few years back to add to my formal dress collection. I packed a few extra dresses the morning of, because I felt like I needed to be prepared for anything. And right before running out the door, I felt God telling me to pack this long red formal gown I had bought to cut up for a Love and Deepspace cosplay. Little did I know, one of the most beautiful moments backstage would come from that red dress.

My eyes were overwhelmed when I got to the venue—filled with sparkles, sequins, and gorgeous gowns. Backstage, the dressing rooms were madness, and tensions were high. My formal gown felt very humble in comparison to the pageant gowns and tiaras around me. I shook off the feeling as I was being directed to a dressing room. I noticed a girl in a situation, so I offered her one of my dresses. She selected the red one.

Then I styled her with my grandmother’s jewelry, and she sparkled. That moment was about more than a dress—it was about showing compassion. If I felt overwhelmed wearing only a formal gown, I can’t imagine how she was feeling.

As a cosplayer it’s normal to help another cosplayer in need in any way you can, and I know many people would have turned a blind eye to her needs, but again, I want to stress that for me, I never saw her—or anyone else—as my competition. The only person I was competing with was myself, to overcome the heavy burden of depression I was feeling. I don’t believe I would be the right type of person to represent cosplayers let alone the USA if I didn’t help her.

That simple act of kindness turned into a real friendship—she became my pageant bestie, and I hope more people understand that pageants are about more than competition; they’re about supporting each other. We both won titles for our countries, with her taking home the title of Mrs Nigeria and me winning Mrs USA! I couldn’t have been happier for both of us.

That red gown was meant for her, and I gave it to her after the show on our way home. When I saw her in it a month later at the red party, I was moved to tears. She looked so radiant.

A Full-Circle Moment at Beauty Camp

One of the most emotional moments for me was when the organizer handed each of us our official pageant t-shirts. The second I held mine, a memory hit me like a wave.

I flashed back to my sister’s bedroom, years ago. She handed me a finalist t-shirt from the Miss USA pageant—something only a true competitor could earn. I held it with reverence but didn’t put it on, as it felt like wearing something I wasn’t worthy of.

Noticing my hesitation to put it on, she shrugged and said, “It’s old now, just wear it as pajamas.” I thanked her, slipped it on, and looked at myself in the mirror—smiling faintly, but deep down wishing that one day, I would have one that I earned.

That wish came true. I could hardly hold back tears. This wasn’t borrowed or tossed to me with indifference; it was mine. It was proof that I really belonged in the pageant and was the titleholder for the USA. I thanked the organizer again for my shirt and quickly changed.

Now I was ready for my first Beauty Camp, which was truly a boot camp for polishing our walks to carry ourselves with grace on the runway. It pushed me in ways I hadn’t expected. The walks, the posture, the presence—it wasn’t just about looking elegant; it was about connecting with the audience and inspiring them with your presence.

Being a fashion model didn’t give me an edge here; those 6″ platform high heels took time to adjust to. I was surprised by how heavy our walking instructor’s heels were; he lent me his to practice the final walk in.

Falling in heels like these is extremely dangerous, and the other ladies were so kind and understanding, allowing those of us who had just put these skyscraper heels on for the first time to take our time. They told us not to rush. As each member practiced their walk, one of the Mrs. fell, and the whole room stopped. Everyone went over to make sure she was okay.

Thankfully, she wasn’t injured and got up to try again. She stood next to me, holding my hand. I encouraged her before she went again. This time, her walk was flawless and full of grace. Watching her fall was terrifying, but watching her come back was more inspiring. I took a deep breath and started my walk as my name was announced.

My best advice if you aren’t comfortable with your heels is to take it slow, walk with grace, and smile through it. You’ll look confident, and no one will be able to tell that it wasn’t easy. This runway is long; it takes about 2 minutes to get through it. When I joined the rest of the ladies, they welcomed me with open arms and helped me sit down. My heart was racing, but it was also filled with joy from all the love and kindness around me.

The new sisterhood I joined that day was magical. We cheered each other on, clapped for every victory—no matter how small—and laughed through the awkward stumbles. There was so much love, support, and joy in that room. For the first time in a long time, I felt seen, celebrated, and completely at home among women who were all rewriting their own stories, too.

Showing My Talent as a Cosplayer

At Beauty Camp, the organizers asked all the contestants what they were going to do for the talent show. They suggested singing or dancing. I raised my hand to dance. After I got home, I started thinking about what type of dance would suit me best. While I am a dancer, I think my talent as a cosplayer needed to be showcased. However, this left me with a new dilemma: what cosplay could I wear that the audience would recognize, and what dance style could tie into my cosplay?

I went over characters and cosplays I had at home, as less than a month isn’t a lot of time to make a new cosplay, pick a song, create the choreography, and figure out how to showcase the art of building my cosplay and the art of cosplay performances. Choosing to make my cosplay meant I had to make every rehearsal leading up to the show count because I wouldn’t have time to rehearse at home. It would be a race against the clock, and I would have to sacrifice my social life, but I believed in my vision.

After considering all my options, I decided Wonder Woman would be the best character to choose. She stands for justice, compassion, and peace. Plus, she is more than a superhero; she is a diplomatic ambassador of Themyscira to the U.S., and in many ways, I saw myself the same way—an ambassador of cosplay to the world. In my heart, I wanted to show everyone what a cosplayer and hero look like, so I chose to wear my hair in cornrows to show my culture. Representation for cosplayers of color is very important to me as the first Black professional cosplayer in Japan. There’s still a lot of racial discrimination in cosplay, and using my skills and abilities to make cosplay more welcoming and to show that you can display your heritage proudly while cosplaying sends a powerful message about inclusivity.

I recorded videos of how I made the costume, and in the weeks leading up to the pageant, I hit a wall. Depression isn’t easy to deal with, and having to handle a mess created by my former employer left me drained. I struggled to complete the skirt and make it flexible enough to kick in. I made patterns, bought new materials for it, and still couldn’t bring myself to work on creating a new one after I realized the current one was too stiff. I decided to just skip it and come back later, as I was racing against the clock.

Shifting my attention, I started planning the dance fusing ken-bu Japanese sword dance with some of Wonder Woman’s iconic poses. For the song, I created a mix between Wonder Woman’s theme song from the 2017 movie and “Blood Sweat and Tears” from Arcane. The song is focused on overcoming your inner battle to become who you need to be, which deeply resonated with me and the story I wanted to tell on stage.

Each contestant is given 5 minutes to perform after their speech; my concern was how I could transition from my speech into my performance and show that I made my costume. Everyone was allowed to submit music or videos to go along with their performance.

My cosplay name is Queen Fenix, but for Mrs of the Year WORLD my name is listed as Fenix D’Joan. I needed to create a new logo to match the theme and show my full name. After designing the new logos I used AI to create all the animations in my video to craft a superhero cinematic entrance, leading into a 1-minute video of me making my costume, giving me enough time to change on stage before going into my dance.

I managed to finish my entire cosplay the night before the talent show. Getting past the mental block to work on the skirt wasn’t easy but I got it done. I packed everything up and made sure I would get 6 hours of sleep that night and my mom paid for my taxi to the venue so I wouldn’t be too tired from carrying my suitcase on the trains.

My speech and performance were interconnected, as I spoke about unlocking the inner hero in you. It also doubled as a message to myself: depression feels like it covers you, hiding away your true inner hero. When I took the cloak off during my performance, I was shedding the weight of my depression and stepping into the hero that God created me to be. The sword dance I performed was to show how we can overcome our inner battles to become the hero in our own story and inspire others to do the same—because heroes are made by the choices we make.

A true hero, in my eyes, is someone who inspires others to challenge themselves—to believe they are capable of becoming the hero in their own story. That’s what I hope I represented. That’s what I strive to be.

My First Time Designing a National Costume

When it came to the national costume, I knew I wanted to celebrate my Texas roots and the unique spirit of Rodeo Queen culture. Growing up in Texas, I was surrounded by the traditions of rodeos, cowboy boots, and the pride of Western heritage. My national costume was a tribute to that world—a blend of classic rodeo queen elegance and my own flair. I designed a look that featured a cowboy hat adorned with a sparkling tiara, a nod to the rodeo queens I admired as a child.

My heels lit up with blue LEDs, adding a modern twist to the classic Western style. The outfit included a double-belted hip cape inspired by my favorite Fate Grand order character, complete with metallic accents and tassels that shimmered under the stage lights. Every detail, from my metallic nails to the earrings I made, was chosen to reflect the confidence, grace, and boldness of Texas women and the image of a phoenix. Wearing my national costume, brought a different side of American culture to the stage as we say, “Texas is like a whole other country.” I am very proud of my Texan roots.

This costume also connected deeply with my Wonder Woman cosplay. As the future cosplay queen, I wanted to showcase a different side of my creativity—one that merged strength, culture, and originality. So I added a golden cowboy lasso to the look. It was a bold twist, blending classic superhero symbolism with a nod to my Texas roots.

That golden lasso wasn’t just an accessory—it was a statement. It represented justice, heritage, and power. It showed that even iconic characters like Wonder Woman can be reimagined in ways that honor who you are and where you come from.

For me, my national costume used creativity to tell a story that’s bigger than just the costume. It is about leaving a deep impression that inspires others to also leave their mark.

Choosing My Evening Gown

I’m incredibly close to my mom, and one of the hardest parts of this journey was knowing she wouldn’t be able to attend the pageant. She wanted to be there more than anything, but financially, it just wasn’t possible. Being so far from home without any family support made the experience even more challenging. Pageants are emotional, and having a familiar face in the crowd can make all the difference.

Even though she couldn’t be there physically, my mom found a beautiful way to be present—she picked out my evening gown. That meant the world to me. It was her way of showing love, support, and belief in me from afar.

Ironically, my gown turned out to be black and silver—the same colors my sister wore in her pageant years ago. My mom also helped her choose her dress, so I guess those colors just work for us.

When one of the assistants at the pageant noticed I was wearing a different dress than expected, she asked about it. I simply said, “My mom picked this one.” That was all I needed to say. That dress wasn’t just elegant—it was filled with meaning. It reminded me of my mom’s presence, her love, and the strength she’s given me all my life.

What made the experience even more special was the audience. In Japan, audiences are usually quiet and reserved—but not this time. The energy was loud, warm, and full of support. It lifted everyone’s spirits.

There were contestants from over 15 different countries, and I commend all of them. Traveling to Japan, stepping into an unfamiliar culture, and performing on that stage took so much courage. It’s not easy to be away from home, especially when you’re surrounded by a completely different language and environment. But we did it. We showed up. And together, we created something unforgettable.

If you’re wondering how many outfits it takes to compete in a pageant like this, let me break it down: you need a solid dress for the opening dance, a red dress for the Red Party (most contestants wear a different one from the opening), a national costume that truly represents your roots, and an evening gown for the final stage. On top of that, you’ll need a special outfit for your speech and, in my case, a cosplay costume for the talent show. It’s a lot of planning, packing, and last-minute adjustments, but each outfit tells a part of your story.

Winning the Junior Grand Prix and being crowned on stage was surreal. I did it for myself—to move forward from a tough chapter and to prove that you can be both a cosplayer and a beauty queen. The love and support I received from fellow contestants and the audience was overwhelming. I hope my story inspires others to be bold, creative, and true to themselves.

Why Mrs. of the Year World is Unique

Unlike traditional beauty pageants, Mrs of the Year World is a celebration of humanity—of voices, stories, and transformation. It is the first international beauty pageant born in Japan and continues to grow globally with events in Taiwan, France, USA, Nigeria, and more.

Highlights include:

• Global representation across all genders and ages
• Talent segments that celebrate individuality
• A mission tied to the UN SDGs, especially gender equality and cultural inclusion

It welcomes people of all backgrounds to share their truth on a global stage. With over 1,400 contestants across Japan and growing international reach, it champions diversity, age-inclusivity, and personal purpose. See more on Instagram @mrs_of_the_year_world.

From Cosplay to Crown: Final Thoughts

I entered as a cosplayer—and walked away as the first cosplayer in history to win an international beauty pageant title. Claiming the Junior Grand Prix crown at Mrs of the Year World wasn’t just a personal milestone. It was a cultural shift.

It proved that cosplay isn’t just for conventions—it belongs on the global stage. It showed that originality, authenticity, and storytelling have a place in pageantry. And it reminded us that representation matters. If you would like to join an online cosplay community check out our cosplay group.

If you’ve ever felt like you didn’t belong in pageants or any spotlight—this story is your sign. Go show the world your passion and be the hero of your own story.