It could be any house in suburban Annandale, Va., among the split-level Colonials with manicured boxwood shrubs — except, around back, past the statue of the red fox and down some steppingstones, there’s a sign on the basement door to greet visitors: “You’re about to enter a sparkle splash zone. Twirling encouraged.”
Inside, Julie Wilson runs a business here in the family home, known by those who need to know as Encore Ballroom Couture. It’s considered the ballroom dance industry’s leading consignment and consignment-rental dress company. Competitive dancers come here from far and wide, as do the frocks. The abiding aesthetic is more is more: feathers, sequins, fringe, crystals. (Rhinestones, you’re tempted to add, but do not ever say that word in here. It’s verboten.) In Wilson’s world, there is no such thing as too much embellishment — even in the guest bathroom, where every free surface, including the toilet lid, is bedazzled. Figure Skating
Ballroom dancing! What’s not to like? It’s dramatic, sexy and, depending on your taste level, glamorous. Is it back again, or is it just always with us, out there on the fanciest fringe of human art form, twirling away? “Dancing With the Stars” is scheduled to return to ABC’s prime-time schedule with its 32nd season this fall (after a sidestep to Disney Plus for a season); Bravo, in its endless hunt for reality-based drama and conflict among ambitious women and certain men, concluded its first season this summer of “Dancing Queens,” which came with its own Bravo-style slogan: “All is fair in war and ballroom.” Some observers think there’s a ballroom dancing boom afoot, a resurgent interest.
“Shows like these have been game-changers in our industry,” says Mary Murphy, who spent 14 seasons as a judge and choreographer on Fox’s “So You Think You Can Dance.” “Seeing athletes of the highest levels struggling with a routine, watching someone’s journey on a dance show — going from a beginner to a perfect score — gives viewers a true appreciation for what it means to be a dancer.”
Fans of these shows, or just of the scene itself, may wonder where the gowns come from, or where they go after they’ve been worn. A good place to start is here in Wilson’s basement empire.
Wilson danced competitively for 20 years, which included a decade as an instructor. She was a pageant queen, too. (Ms. Virginia; Ms. Ireland USA.) The years went by, and her closets bulged with the glimmering evidence of moments in the spotlight. There was no place for the family to keep winter coats. Wilson remembers when her mother, Brenda, had enough: “She said, ‘Julie, you need to do something about this.’”
Wilson, 44, says it was hard to part with her girls. (Gowns, in this community, are all female.) “I didn’t trust eBay to take care of my dresses,” she says. Plus, the resale space for competitive ballroom dancing dresses was “a black hole.”
Brenda Wilson, a retired OB/GYN nurse, and Julie, a government contractor, decided to open Encore, transforming the basement of the home they shared with husband and dad Walter into a dance destination. Chandeliers simulate the lighting of competition dance floors, white ostrich feathers are arranged in vases and a small refurbishing station stands ready for dresses that need a bit of first aid. Instead of nails and screws, small drawers contain a color spectrum of crystals.
At first, Julie sold her own dresses. Then she sold her friends’ dresses. Fourteen years later, Encore has an inventory of around 450 dresses, consigned by dancers who retired, overhauled their image or whose closets needed some breathing room. Consignors get 60 percent of the sale price, which can be quite considerable; dresses here start around $4,000. Dress rentals begin at $300.
O ne of the first girls Wilson resold that wasn’t her own belonged to Rose-Ann Lynch, a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Marine Corps.
The dress, Lynch recalls, looked like a sparkly purple disco ball. She loved it, she says, sounding apologetic, but it was time to let it go. “In ballroom, you do wear dresses over and over again,” she explains, until you evolve as a dancer. Then you need something less classic and more out there. “Your dress has to look the way you dance,” she says, but “my dress deserved to be danced in, even if I wasn’t dancing in it.”
Lynch, now retired from the military, is still dancing at 61. She has returned to Wilson’s basement on a recent Thursday afternoon with her husband and competitive dancing partner, Mike, 63, who is also a retired Marine lieutenant colonel.
The Lynches, who live in Fredericksburg, Va., met when they both worked at the Pentagon. At their first Marine Corps ball, Rose-Ann says, Mike “was uncomfortable.” Both were longtime athletes and competitive by nature. Stumbling around the dance floor just would not do. When Mike prepared to retire in 2005, Rose-Ann handed him a honey-do list, which included dance lessons. “I told him, ‘I don’t want you to lead if you don’t know where you’re going,’” she says.
The duo competed for the first time that same year and are currently the 23-time USA Dance Senior Amateur national champions, a category for people ages 55-64. Tight as drums, Mike and Rose-Ann make a compelling case that the fountain of youth can be found on the dance floor. A logistician by training, Mike possesses rational, chess-like strategies that come in handy on the dance floor. With multiple couples whirling and twirling at the same time, avoiding a collision is vital when the judges determine their final scores.
Today, the Lynches have come to Encore Ballroom Couture in search of an American Smooth dress for Rose-Ann. A primer, for those who need one: Competitive ballroom dancing includes both American and International categories. American style includes Smooth (waltz, tango, fox trot, Viennese waltz) and Rhythm (cha-cha, rumba, swing, bolero, mambo); International is separated into Standard (waltz, tango, Viennese waltz, slow fox trot, quickstep) and Latin (cha-cha, samba, rumba, paso doble, jive).
American Smooth and International Standard styles call for dresses with floats (think fluttery silks that move behind the dancer like wisps of steam), and Rhythm and Latin necessitate something shorter and sexier.
In American Smooth, partners separate and dance side by side, a la Fred and Ginger, so dresses must look good both coming and going. In International Standard, the couples dance closely, so dresses need look amazing only from the back.
If Rose-Ann finds a dress today, it will appear in one of the most important dance competitions of the year: the Amateur National Championship, next March in Pittsburgh.
“I always like to be prepared for Nationals,” she explains, heading to the dressing room, where Wilson’s intern, Dounia Arafa, stands ready to zip and unzip.
“Ballroom women are always open to finding the next look, the next dress, the next image,” says Wilson, who is herself decked out in a sequined black ball cap and an off-the-shoulder white blouse edged with black pompoms, accessorized with a necklace with black beads the size of golf balls.
Wilson has customers scattered across the country. They’ll “fly in just to get a dress,” she says, while describing one customer from Texas who sends ahead a list of dresses she wants to try on when she gets there. Some buy so many frocks that they have to keep track of them by spreadsheet. One woman, Wilson stage-whispers, called to get a valuation of her dresses — a divorce settlement. “We have women who call and ask ‘How’s my dress doing?’” Ballroom people, she affirms, “are next-level.”
When Wilson isn’t keeping tabs on the girls, she and her staff (today, there are two on hand) unpack shipments, spiff up gowns that need attention and handle at least two appointments a day. Sometimes, Hollywood calls: A character in a TV show needs a ballgown. (“The Good Doctor” is a recent example.) “We’ve had our dresses on the red carpet,” Wilson says, without naming the bodies in them.
R ose-Ann sweeps back into the studio wearing the first gown under consideration, a crystal-encrusted cheetah-print dress with a high slit and feathers hanging off the skirt like a 1970s-era roach clip. It costs $3,800 and previously belonged to a champion dancer down South. She does a few quick turns, setting the dress in motion. Her hair, tinted red and pulled tight in a ballerina’s bun, stays put.
Before her death in 2021, Wilson’s mother, Brenda, would give each dress in the shop’s inventory a name. The task now falls to shop manager Callie Maginnis, who, perhaps inspired by the cheetah pattern, has called this dress “Zulu.” Maginnis also writes the aspirational dress descriptions for the website. (“Exotic prints like cheetah print bring out our desire for wanderlust and adventure to faraway lands.”)
“What do you think?” Rose-Ann asks Mike.
She strikes a few “ta-dah” poses, an arm raised over her head, while Mike studies her like a cat. “It’s a lot of animal print,” he finally allows. “Just in my opinion.”
As his wife goes back to the drawing board, he leans in confidingly and says: “Dresses are critical in competition. It’s all about attracting the judges’ attention.” Wearing black, he said, is a no-no. “You want to stand out, not blend in.”
The next contender, a cloud-gray confection named Net Worth ($4,300), is quickly rejected, mostly for its overlay of material that conjures up ideas of trawling nets. “My concern would be the catching,” Mike says.
Even though she’s here to find a Smooth dress, Rose-Ann can’t resist a new arrival from the Rhythm category. “This is very me,” she said, striking a pose in a short “Moulin Rouge!”-ish girl that has been dubbed Petal to the Metal ($4,100). She shakes the gold-beaded fringe in front of Mike like a burlesque dancer.
“Do you like this dress?” she asks.
“I like the idea,” he replies.
There is no arguing. The decisions are even more cut-and-dried when a dancer brings in her coach. “Coaches have strong opinions,” Wilson says. “The husband could like it, the wife could like it, but if the coach says no, the wife will turn right back around.”
Rose-Ann’s next candidate, a two-piece pirate ensemble that looks more suitable for a Renaissance faire, is vetoed across the board. Once worn by “Dancing With the Stars” coach Edyta Śliwińska, the outfit is part of Wilson’s archival costume collection from Seasons 2 through 12 of the show. Thanks to her friendship with the late Randall Christensen, once a lead designer on the show and the owner of Randall Designs, Wilson was able to purchase some of the inventory.
Fans of the show can own, among others, Lil’ Kim’s two-piece cop outfit (including her police badge and original mic pack sewn inside the bust); Nicole Scherzinger’s homage to “Purple Rain”-era Prince; and Donny Osmond’s diamond-studded railroad conductor’s pants, matching cap and bandanna.
After three hours (the length of a typical appointment), Rose-Ann thinks she has found a winner. Even though it’s black, Pleats & Thank You ($3,900) is a standout, with a high split up each leg. “There’s definitely enough stuff to attract the judges,” she decided. Rose-Ann envisions wearing it with black fishnets and a de rigueur spray tan.
“Tanning,” Mike notes, “is hugely important.”
Still, he’s not entirely convinced that Pleats & Thank You “can dance.” Earlier, Mike described himself as the frame around his wife’s picture. The dress must look good on them both.
Needing to get home to their two papillons, the couple leave empty-handed. Maginnis is convinced they’ll return before long. “She was in the dressing room talking about the bracelets she was going to wear with it.”
With the shop now quiet, Wilson stands in front of a framed photograph of her mother. In this one, Brenda poses with Maksim Chmerkovskiy, her favorite coach from “Dancing With the Stars.”
Mother and daughter were true partners. It was Brenda who picked out every dress Julie competed in. When they opened their shop, the pair traveled to events and set up as vendors. “Mom was just so good with the ladies,” Wilson recalls. “There was no icing on the cake with her. She was a real straight shooter. If they had back fat hanging out, Mom would let them know.” As a nurse, Brenda was good at finding gowns that could help customers hide surgical scars from pacemakers or mastectomies. When they won a charity auction in 2019 to go behind the scenes of a taping of TLC’s “Say Yes to the Dress” (Brenda’s favorite show), mother and daughter made such an impression that the producers wondered whether they hadn’t found their next stars.
Padded Shorts When Brenda died, Wilson didn’t consider closing the shop. Her mother would never want that. It’s about saying yes to the dresses, all these gorgeous girls. The mirror ball spins on.