Dancing with the Stars - Season 35

Every autumn, my living room transforms into a glittering ballroom of sorts, complete with a cup of tea, a bowl of popcorn, and me shouting scores at the television as though Len Goodman himself might hear me. So naturally, with chatter building around Dancing with the Stars Season 35, I have already started my annual ritual of wildly premature speculation. Honestly, I don't apologise for it. This show has been part of my routine for longer than I care to admit, and each new season feels like catching up with an old friend who just happens to know how to cha-cha.

What I love most about a fresh season is the casting roulette. Every year I swear I'll stay neutral, and every year I end up emotionally invested in a celebrity I'd previously barely thought about. That's the magic of the programme, really. It takes someone who has never danced a step in their life and, over ten weeks, turns them into someone who can deliver a Viennese waltz that makes me genuinely tearful. I fully expect Season 35 to give me at least one underdog to champion and one heartbreakingly early exit that I'll complain about for weeks.

The Ballroom Magic That Keeps Me Coming Back

There is something about the ballroom that no other reality show quite replicates. The sequins, the dramatic lighting, the band striking up that unmistakable theme — it all combines into pure, unashamed escapism. I've watched plenty of competitions over the years, but only this one makes me want to actually learn a rumba rather than just admire one. The pro dancers deserve every bit of the applause, too; their choreography week after week is nothing short of artistry, and I've lost count of the routines I've rewatched on video long past midnight.

My Hopes for the New Season

So what am I hoping for from Season 35? More themed weeks, for a start — I will defend the Halloween episode until my last breath. I'd also love to see the judges lean into honest critiques again, because nothing is more satisfying than watching a contestant genuinely improve after a blunt-but-fair score. And of course, I want drama: the shocking eliminations, the ten-paddle surprises, the backstage tears that somehow get me emotional through the screen.

Until the premiere lights up my television, I'll be here with my prediction lists, my frankly unrealistic expectations, and my enthusiasm dialed firmly up to eleven. Season 35, I'm ready for you — glitter ball and all.