How Ahtisa Manalo and Miriam Quiambao Fell Into Power

There’s a specific kind of silence that swells in a pageant arena when a contestant stumbles. It is not the hush of awe, but of collective holding of breath; an almost primal stillness as cameras freeze, judges flinch, and a nation gasps from half a world away. It’s the kind of silence that followed Ahtisa Manalo’s slip on the Miss Universe Philippines stage in 2025, and, 26 years earlier, echoed when Miriam Quiambao fell at Miss Universe 1999. But while the world paused, they didn’t. They got up.

In this story for Allure Philippines, we sit down with two women who have lived through every beauty queen’s nightmare and emerged more luminous than before. Miriam Quiambao, the now-iconic first runner-up of Miss Universe 1999, and Ahtisa Manalo, the freshly-crowned Miss Universe Philippines 2025, recount not just the mechanics of a fall, but the mental fortitude, spiritual clarity, and quiet humor that carried them through.

No one plans for a fall

Before stepping onto the Miss Universe stage, Quiambao had already trained obsessively. Hundreds of pasarela runs every single day in Venezuela, weeks of rehearsals, and a mindset built for perfection. So when the moment came and she emerged from the shadows in her Halston gown, she was ready. But the unexpected happened—her heel snagged on the Swarovski-laden train of her dress, sending her tumbling mid-walk.

For a brief second, the entire arena held its breath. “The whole audience was quiet,” Quiambao recalls in an exclusive interview with Allure Philippines. “And then something in my heart said, I’m going to finish what I started. And so I stood up. And then I finished my walk. And then I could hear the whole auditorium breaking into applause. And then I said, ‘Ah, gusto nila yung ginawa ko.’”

She recovered swiftly, touching the ground for balance, steadying herself, and finishing with grace. The audience gasped, then erupted in applause. Backstage, choreographer Scott Grossman called it “the most beautiful recovery” he’d ever seen, and a fellow contestant comforted her as she cried. What could’ve been a catastrophe became a turning point. The fall made her name known, shifted her from a quiet favorite to a crowd standout, and reminded her of the resolve that would carry her to finish what she started.

Courtesy of Miriam Quiambao

Support is necessary

In one of Quiambao’s interviews post-fall, she was asked, “When was the last time you stood up for something?” Her answer was simple but powerful: “Last Friday, when I fell.” For her, that moment became more than a stumble. It became a stand for every woman who had ever fallen, onstage or off. It symbolized resilience, and in time, grew to represent the many times she had fallen in life: in love, in faith, in finances.

But every time, she stood back up—with God, she said, as the voice in her heart reminded her to finish what she started. The fall became a metaphor that mirrored her life, and the quiet strength it took to rise was echoed by the support that met her backstage: Miss Singapore’s kindness, the choreographer’s words, and the unwavering support of the Filipino community. “You can’t do it alone,” she reflects. “You need people to encourage you, especially when you’re most tempted to give up.”

Manalo, too, described her own fall as symbolic, but in a more grounded, almost instinctive way. “I think I’m just used to falling,” she tells Allure Philippines with a soft laugh. “I’ve had a hard life, and I’ve learned to get back up every single time.” She didn’t see the fall as dramatic or poetic in the moment. It was muscle memory, a survival instinct. Get up. Keep going.

Mindset was what carried Manalo through. And like Quiambao, she found grace in her community. Backstage, she cracked jokes with her fellow candidates, including Miss Supranational Philippines Kat Llegado. “Girl, I fell,” she had said, laughing. The sisterhood that surrounded her turned what could’ve been a moment of shame into something tender, empowering. “That made everything more meaningful,” Manalo fondly recalls. “Having them with me through it all.”

It takes a tough mindset, but also kindness to oneself

When asked about what helped her push through, Manalo says, “I think it’s all about mindset. Because I have, in my mind, I know that most, or if not all competitions are won during preparation. And when the time comes when you’re actually competing, it’s just you showing everyone what you’ve prepared for and what you’ve practiced for.”

Still, the stunner from Quezon believes that a competition isn’t won until it’s truly done. “I’m not a person to give up midway because I fumbled something,” she adds. “I’m just going to make sure that I push harder and work harder so that at the finish line, I can still make it. So I think it’s all about mindset.” 

For Manalo, the fall was never something to hide from—it was something to own. In an age where social media can turn a split second into a viral loop, she didn’t flinch. “It’s just something that happened,” she says. She even requested the footage from the official videographers and posted it on her own platforms. “I’m not going to be ashamed of something that wasn’t in my control,” she adds. There was a kind of quiet defiance in her approach. Not to make light of the fall, but to refuse to be held hostage by it. Reliving the moment didn’t feel like punishment; it felt like proof that she could rise.

Courtesy of Miss Universe Philippines

What we can learn from queens in the spotlight

When asked whether the stumble taught her something winning never could, the newly-crowned Miss Universe Philippines doesn’t hesitate. “Losing usually teaches me more about myself than winning does,” she says. “It’s easy to be kind and gracious when everything goes your way. But your real character comes out when it doesn’t.” In that sense, the fall became a mirror—one that revealed who she already was, and the strength she’d quietly built over years of learning how to keep going.

Quiambao echoes this hard-won wisdom. “So if you’re a beginner at anything, it’s like you have a learning curve, right? So even if you’re an expert, you still make mistakes, right? It really happens to anyone,” she shares. “But the important thing is, once you’ve made a decision, you stick to it. And if you don’t quit, by God’s grace, you will end up successful.” For Quiambao, even her spiritual beliefs ground the moment: “Nothing happens by accident.” The fall may have been unplanned, but rising became a deliberate act of resilience. One that both women now carry beyond the stage.