Michael, the 19-year-old from Jerusalem, the soldier who has taken a break from compulsory military service to learn some ramp-walk, wouldn’t talk about Hamas or the gunshots in Gaza. “Politics is there. In Israel, it is part of everybody’s lives, but I just want to project my country’s beauty. I know it has become a joke that every Miss Universe wants world peace but I want peace at home first,” she said.

“Oh, I just want a car,” the green-eyed Rotem Zrihen throws her head back in laughter.

The innocence might just cost the 22-year-old the crown but then they are youngsters who dream of Dior and Calvin Klein; who, when the shoot got over, quickly untie their ghaghra-cholis to breathe easy in tank tops, tights and denims, and scurry away from the past for a slice of pizza at the Hut.

But Miro turns back and says, “I want to call Mom and tell her about the prince’s great love.”

The model-churning factories, obviously, are not functional in Israel, but Sarmad, the poet of Jewish birth who wrote rubaiyats during Shah Jahan’s reign, must be chuckling. And that, for any youngster, is fun enough.