In Pak Kret, near Bangkok, Ève Gilles, 22 years old, Miss France 2024, represents France at Miss Universe 2025. On November 19, 2025, she unveiled a national costume inspired by Joan of Arc: silver armor, sword, and a white flag adorned with a dove, to convey a message of peace. This is the last pageant for the young woman from the North, before the Miss Universe 2025 final broadcast in France on Paris Première on November 21 at 2 a.m..
A French heroine reinvented, in the Thai light
She is 22 years old, with a regal bearing and a clear taste for historical nods. Ève Gilles, crowned Miss France on December 16, 2023 at the Zénith in Dijon, now moves forward with confidence. Indeed, she presents herself on the stage of Miss Universe 2025 in Thailand like a leading actress. The young woman does not just compete among a little over 120 candidates. She writes a modern fable where Joan of Arc becomes a standard-bearer of peace. The armor shines under the spotlights, while a sword is attached to her waist. Additionally, a white flag is embroidered with a dove and a tricolor ribbon. The gesture is clear. In a world she describes as very divided, she wants "to embody a warrior committed to peace." The phrase, which others might have used as a slogan, she embraces without irony. Moreover, she does so with a contained fervor that suits heroines. Indeed, this is true when they know where they come from and where they are going.
A costume conceived as a narrative
The national costume was entrusted to Aymerick Zana, a designer experienced in stage outfits and familiar with flamboyant transformations. The armor consists of a corset and a skirt with metallic reflections. Additionally, it includes thigh-high boots, cuffs, and a cape. Together, these elements are tailored for the stage and the camera. At her side, the sword is studded with nails. In her hand, the banner with signs of peace. Nothing here is decorative. This visual vocabulary, borrowed from the imaginary Middle Ages, is nourished by a pop culture that loves armored heroines. It connects the legends of yesterday to the aesthetics of Gen Z and reminds us how Joan of Arc slips from one century to another without losing her fervor.
The reference is not without risk. In France, Joan of Arc remains a contested figure, invoked by opposing narratives, sometimes national, sometimes mystical, sometimes feminist. By choosing this totem, Ève Gilles walks a fine line. She embraces it. She insists on freedom and peace, two words that neutralize the temptations of appropriation. She claims a tribute to "an inspiring woman" and wants to keep history alive. However, she does not seek to fetishize a saint. On the contrary, she wants to remind us that a teenager was able to change the course of a country. The symbol is updated with 1980s volumes and emphasized shoulder pads. Finally, a theatricality that allows for brilliance without succumbing to gaudiness completes this update.
Cilaos, La Réunion, as a sign and a source
Between the idea and the armor, there was a journey. The path of Joan was first suggested by Ève Gilles’ father. Then the candidate recounts a moment of revelation in Cilaos, on the island of La Réunion, in front of a representation of the Maid. She saw it as a sign, a way to connect her journey to a larger narrative. Myths need a place to settle. This one, nestled in the high valley of Réunion, serves as an intimate matrix for a scenic construction. The young woman adds a personal layer to the national monument, thus avoiding the temptation of a postcard costume. No beret, no baguette, no cabaret posters. She deliberately avoids clichés and prefers a narrative, vertical, somewhat mystical France oriented towards peace.
Since her arrival in Thailand in early November, the schedule alternates between photo sessions in Phuket and Pattaya, visits, physical preparation, runway rehearsals, and English practice. On November 19, 2025, near Bangkok, she presented her national costume. In the aisles, smartphones compose a second audience. Images burst forth, cut into stories, reels, vertical videos where every detail becomes a chapter. The pageant itself has integrated this multiplied mirror. It is no longer just about impressing a jury, but about capturing a cloud of screens.
In this arena, the entourage plays the role of a bubble. Max the dancer, also from the North, sets the catwalk. Yacine, a precious friend, oversees the short hair and makeup. The parents and the partner form a barrier against distraction. The team maintains the tempo and protects the candidate. They repeat that Miss Universe 2025 is her last pageant in the world of Misses. The promise is made without dramatization. If the crown called her, she says she is ready to live abroad for a year to honor the potential reign. She is ready to suspend French life, habits, and the relationship.
The making of a very visible silhouette
Behind the armor, there is a fashion language. With stylist Joanes, Ève Gilles has defined a readable signature. The colors blaze, the volumes expand, the outfit asserts a signature, the pants gain volume, the shoulders are marked. This grammar of revisited 1980s is expressed in silhouettes that capture the light. The strategy is clear. In a pageant where global attention is at stake, being seen is as important as being scored. The outfits, conceived as successive scenes, summon French houses and cutting-edge designers. Pierre Cardin for the architectural, Stéphane Rolland for the spectacular purity, On Aura Tout Vu for the workshop audacity. The French fashion is presented here in a mastered patchwork, more than in a uniform. The whole composes a trousseau that is both varied and coherent, ensuring an identity without being fixed in a school.
Joan of Arc in the French imagination: contemporary readings
A multifaceted figure, Joan of Arc has shifted from hagiography to politics, from genre painting to national narratives. Historians have shown how her image was constructed, criticized, reappropriated. Colette Beaune reminds us that the Maid crystallizes, as early as the 15th century, the birth of a nation around unifying myths. Then, she is reinterpreted in the 19th and 20th centuries according to regimes and sensibilities. Régine Pernoud, a great popular medievalist, contributed to dispelling clichés about the Middle Ages and to placing women of action, including Joan, at the heart of sources, far from school caricatures. Contemporary visual culture, from runways to cinema, extends this plasticity: the armor becomes a sign that speaks of strength, while the white flag shifts the allegory towards appeasement. Ève Gilles’ costume fits into this long history: it synthesizes a national heroine and an immediately readable pop language, without assigning Joan to a single interpretation.
In terms of fashion, the stylization of the medieval intersects with a "gothic" and spectacular imagination that fashion theorists, like Valerie Steele, have analyzed in connection with armed bodies, the corset, silhouettes that perform power while playing with the theater of clothing. This grammar harmonizes with Ève Gilles’ 1980s aesthetic: broadened shoulders, assumed volumes, technical brilliance. It tells less of nostalgia than a contemporary translation of French symbols.
Miss and #MeToo: between empowerment and inherited codes
Since #MeToo, pageants negotiate a gray area: offering a platform for individual trajectories while inheriting codes of selection and spectacle that have been durably criticized. Miss Universe has evolved its rules and costumes: since 2023, married women and mothers can compete. This marks a move towards more inclusivity, to which other already engaged openings are added. These inflections do not dissolve all criticisms, but they shift the framework of judgment. It is oriented towards journeys and projects as much as towards strict morphology.
In this context, Ève Gilles’ proposal plays a part of sober empowerment: converting controversies about her body or her short hair into a signature, relying on a heroine whose legend has long served as a sounding board for French debates, and making fashion a language of non-aggressive power. The tension remains: the bikini and the catwalk coexist with messages of peace and freedom. But this tension, far from invalidating the exercise, can constitute the material of a useful public debate. In this context, the signs are discussed, reinterpreted, and contested. Here, the armor is not a closure: it is a scenic tool that frames the speech.
Social media as a second stage
Miss Universe now plays out in two stages. There is the stage, with its spotlights, its juries, its schedules, its codes. There is the second stage, digital, which forms a parallel stream. Stories, selfies, short videos, live broadcasts, instant rankings. In this regime of images, visibility becomes a measure of power. Ève Gilles has adapted to this. Her colorful silhouettes create memorable vignettes. They circulate naturally in the flow, anchor in quick memories, and feed a global conversation. The performance extends into the repetition of images that, through accumulation, create a narrative.
The choreography is set with the help of a catwalk coach and a hair and makeup artist who know the angles, the light, the rhythm. The pageant becomes an image workshop. One must maintain grace without losing endurance, speak accurately without losing momentum. The candidate constantly reminds of the honor of representing France and her desire to open the international stage. Moreover, she wishes to promote French designers. This circulation of influences resembles a contemporary definition of soft power. Fashion, language, signs, allure, all circulate in favor of a silhouette.
The debate on the usefulness of pageants in the 21st century
The question remains that French society addresses to these pageants. What purpose do they still serve in the 21st century? On the margins, they retain the echo of a format deemed outdated, sometimes sexist, regularly contested. They have also become platforms where young women speak out and champion causes. Furthermore, they build visibility useful for commitments. The tension is not soluble. It is negotiated, night after night, with real advances and persistent blind spots. Ève Gilles’ trajectory, her short hair, her assumed slimness, her measured speech, shift certain lines. They do not overturn the table. They compel the format to slightly reformulate, to take into account a plurality of silhouettes and narratives.
Critics remind us that emancipation is not measured by the length of a train or the brilliance of a crown. Supporters emphasize that the stages thus gained become platforms. The truth, as often, lies in a middle ground. There are slow structures, there are fast lives. The candidates negotiate their margins of action. That evening, in the silver armor, the Frenchwoman offers a pacified reading of a warrior icon. She creates a dialogue between strength and appeasement. The contradiction is apparent. It is above all fruitful.
A trousseau as a calling card of French fashion
Eve Gilles’s promise is to bring a panorama of French fashion to the world stage. The collection aggregates more niche houses and workshops. The variety of textures and colors creates an album to flip through for the cameras. France does not appear frozen in a museum-like imagery. It is expressed in bold cuts, vibrant materials, and silhouettes that do not fear angles. The Jeanne d’Arc armor, the most spectacular piece, is part of this atlas and provides it with a narrative peak. It reflects a way of inhabiting the stage and dressing it, a gesture that is both cultural and diplomatic.
This strategy moves in tandem with an attention to words. The commitment to peace recurs like a refrain. It does not cancel out the competition. It links it to a clear cause, which speaks to a broad audience beyond borders. The candidate does not promise to resolve the world’s turmoil. She embraces a simple and almost naive message, then makes it resonate with the image of a heroine. Moreover, her story has spanned centuries. Simplicity here is not weakness. It is restraint, a perfect note, a recurring motif.
The calendar, the stage, the screen
The final of Miss Universe 2025 takes place in Pak Kret, near Bangkok, on November 21, 2025. In France, the channel Paris Première broadcasts the show starting at 2 a.m. Then, a more convenient rebroadcast is offered during the day. There will be rankings, lists, faces with discreet tears, and bright smiles. Above all, there will be the mark a country left that night in the shared imagination. Contests come and go. Some images remain. The silver armor, the white flag with the dove, the determined demeanor of a young woman from Nord–Pas-de-Calais might well stay in the memory of the viewers, beyond the podiums.