Supplied: PR Connect / Michelle Tran
)If you'd asked a 13-year-old Maria Thattil if she would become Miss Universe Australia, she'd probably have thought you were joking.
She was shy, desperate to belong and afraid to be herself.
"I'm in a realm where I didn't ever historically think I could show up and take up space," Ms Thattil, now 27, tells the ABC.
So representing Australia — at any level — was something she didn't believe was possible. Ms Thattil says for most of her life she's been told she couldn't be Australian.
"I wasn't Australian enough, but also feeling like I didn't fit the Anglo-Celtic perceptions of beauty at the time. It just felt like I just wasn't it."
Supplied: PR Connect
)Growing up, those messages Ms Thattil says she received at school began to manifest in ways she now regrets.
She vividly remembers not feeling comfortable embracing all aspects of her identity, and in her early high school years she started to strongly denounce her South Asian heritage.
"It's heartbreaking to look back on it," she says.
"I stopped speaking to my extended family, I stopped watching Bollywood movies, I stopped wanting to eat our food. I was embarrassed of my family."
Supplied: PR Connect
)She says she just desperately wanted to belong, to be a part of the group — even if it meant compromising parts of herself.
Tokenism, not real diversity
Supplied: Michelle Tran
)Hanan Ibrahim, one of Australia's most high-profile hijabi models, still feels like she's a work in progress despite representing some of the largest brands in Australia.
"I want to be used for more than just that diversity inclusion check, I want tokenism to disappear," Ms Ibrahim says.
"I want models of colour to just be used, because they can do the job as well as anyone else. And not just picked because it's the flavour of the month for them to do a diversity photoshoot."
Ms Ibrahim believes Australia's modelling industry commonly uses models of colour in what she describes in tokenistic ways. She says sometimes, walking on set, she realises she's only been called to model because they needed a black person.
"They've ticked off that diversity inclusion, you know, tick for the brand," she says.
"It's emotionally taxing. That's the only way that I can explain it."
Ms Ibrahim has complicated feelings about her position. She's grateful to be able to represent her community, but is "exhausted" by what she says is performative diversity.
"There's so much more than just having somebody as the face of your company, like what anti-racism work are you doing behind the scenes?" she says.
"Are you training the people that are working in your company to acknowledge First Nations and black people as just like a mainstream part of the picture, rather than a segment that is hot for a certain period of time."
Not just about ticking boxes
Ms Ibrahim isn't interested in being someone’s trend for a moment — she wants material change.
"Where are the black make-up artists, where are the black creators who exist, I mean, I see them online."
Ms Ibrahim recalls being on a photoshoot the other day for beauty products brand Eleven Australia. It was the first time she has seen another hijabi at a shoot.
"There was a hair stylist who was a hijabi, and the second I got there we ran to each other," she says.
Supplied: Michelle Tran
)The woman told Ms Ibrahim about her troubles in the industry working as a hijab-wearing hair stylist.
"Hairdressers told her that she has to take her hijab off, so people can see her hair in order to work as a hairdresser. And this company Eleven Australia decided, 'Screw that, you're good at what you do, we'll hire you.'
"For the both of us that was the first time on set anywhere we were with another woman who wore a hijab."
Ms Ibrahim says being among the first mainstream hijabi models comes with pressure, a lot of explaining, and, at times, uncomfortable conversations.
One of those difficult conversations is speaking out about her experiences within the Muslim "modest" fashion brands.
Modest fashion is a booming billion-dollar industry according to DFAT, and is estimated to grow up to $US368 billion worldwide this year.
"You'd think I would get more support from the Muslim community here, which are majority Arabs, but I'm just not the right shade for them," Ms Ibrahim says.
"Like, I'm not the right shade of Muslim to be representing them."
Supplied: Michelle Tran
)She recalls moments when she has reached out to Muslim modest labels to work with them, only to be rejected.
"I know that when you look at their page, it's white women who are either converts or people who are white-passing or have lighter skin," she says.
"I don't fit their beauty standards enough to represent them."
'I didn't look like myself'
Supplied: Maria Thattil
)Ms Thattil's breaking point came when she looked at a photo of her 20-year-old self.
It's an image she still remembers years later.
"I have make-up on that's about four shades too light, I'm wearing green eye contacts, and my hair was bleached," she says.
"And when you look at it, you can see that I was trying to occupy skin that was not mine.
Now she is focused on sharing her story to ensure young women of colour don't feel alone.
Like Ms Ibrahim, Ms Thattil believes she's a part of a growing collective of women of colour redefining Australian beauty standards. They both credit the Black Lives Matter movement as a key force in pushing conversations surrounding race and racism.
"It's now just given a mic to our voices that have been speaking for this sort of thing for a very long time. But now people are more ready to listen," Ms Thattil says.
And with over 70,000 followers on social media, Ms Thattil says "we don't need permission" to be heard.
The building of community is a large part of why Ms Thattil felt it was even possible for her to compete in Miss Universe Australia. The previous two winners were also women of colour, and she worked in the same government building as 2019 winner Priya Serrao.
"When I saw [Priya] going through the program, I followed her journey. And when she was actually selected, I thought, 'Oh, my goodness, maybe I could do this too.'"
Despite feeling alienated by sections of the Muslim community, Ms Ibrahim doesn’t feel alone.
Supplied: Michelle Tran
)She says she is heavily supported by a growing number of young models of colour, and she wants them all to be celebrated outside of what she describes as "tick box" diversity.
"It reflects what Australia is, which is a multicultural society. So, do we see that on advertisements, do we see that smeared all over the walls and in magazines?
"Not as much as we should, not as much as we exist."
