To Tan or Not to Tan

If you’re a serious competitive DanceSport athlete you embrace a lot of fake stuff… eyelashes, hair pieces, padding in places that need it and of course, the pièce de résistance: the fake tan. No need to worry as you find a place on the dance floor for your first dance. You haven’t mistakenly stumbled into an Oompah-Loompah convention. You are indeed at a ballroom dance competition.

Ballroom dancing is an aesthetic sport, which means in addition to executing routines as

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Just Say Oui

A week or so before my first competition, I was having lunch with an old friend who also happens to be a ballroom dancer. As we parted ways and headed to our respective cars, she hollered, “merde!” from across the parking lot. I immediately stopped short of my next step and scanned the ground in front of me. When I realized the coast was clear, I lifted my foot behind me and craned my neck over my shoulder to see if I had already inadvertently sullied the sole of my shoe. Loosely translated

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Throwback Thursday… There’s No Farting in Ballroom…circa 2015

Throwback to November 5, 2015, the original publication date of There’s No Farting in Ballroom. 

I had been dancing pro-am with my then-23-year-old instructor/partner for 10 months. We were working hard to prepare for my first Ohio Star Ball. There was no farting in ballroom then. There is no farting in ballroom now and there never will be farting in ballroom.

WARNING: If you are offended by bodily functions, you may want to skip today’s post. Carry on. There’s nothing for

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The New and Improved o2cm: Everything You Always Wanted to Know But Were Afraid to Ask

Online Onsite Competition Manager, more commonly known as o2cm, has been updated. Effective immediately, folks attempting to register for competitions contested after April 15, 2019 will be required to obtain a Registrant Identification Number (RIN). Yay! Yet another randomly assigned nine-digit permanent and unique identifier to keep track of! What’s not to love about that?!

If you suddenly experienced a stabbing, knife-like pain in your left eye and if it ain’t broke, don’t

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Coming Home

by Lisa Plummer Savas

I honestly never thought I’d dance again. It had been more than 15 years since I’d put my ballet slippers, favorite leotards and worn out jazz shoes away. While I never stopped longing for that blissful feeling of freedom that used to be mine when I danced across a studio floor or stage, I thought for sure that my aging body would never be able to handle the inordinate demands of the classical dance forms again. I just figured my days of sweeping across the floor and leaping through

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