This series will look at the fifth season of Project Runway. As such it will contain spoilers from each episode. You’ve been warned. A promise though: I will never use the word "Aufed."

A yellow NYC taxi pulls up in front of the Atlas, a grey luxury apartment building. A man with a shirt open to his navel is pulling a suitcase down the street. It’s our first contestant on The Sewing Is Right. Jerell, come on down! He’s 28, from Los Angeles and an ex-model who couldn’t afford cool clothes so he made his own. Now he’s a designer.

Jerell makes it up to his apartment and chooses a bed. He’s still got his hat on. Bad luck indoors, Jerell! Oh well, Jerell. The doorbell rings and it’s Blayne, a swept-hair, blond and orange lil’ fella in trendoid skatewear. He wheels his suitcase in and avoids eye contact. Maybe the tanning bed scorched his retinas. Like a metal shaving to a magnet, Blayne finds the chalkboard in the room and graffitis “Sup Holla!” above the welcome message on it. We’ll soon find out he’s a man in search of a catchphrase.

Surprise! Blayne is a barista at a coffee shop (wonder which?) and “loves urban wear”. We see him trying to poplock. It’s as if he has downloaded every major trend since the late ‘80s and his program is crashing. Blayne blogs to the solo cam that “tanning is (his) passion” and he “needs to squeeze that in.” Well, don’t the makeup people have airbrushes? Shouldn’t be a problem. Blayne has his hoodie pulled up over his “I Wanna Be a Dentist” blond hair. He looks like Malibu Elf.

Mello Joe as I may call him from this point on (at least in my own thoughts) is in next. He makes a very low key entrance, just walks in without fanfare and grabs a coffee. This man is comfortable in his skin and has nothing to prove to anyone in the room. I smell a darkhorse here. Joe is 41 and from Detroit. He’s married and just instantly seems like a standup kinda guy. I like Joe from Detroit. Mellow, humble, he’s already the mental sherbet you need after four courses of Blayne. So that’s three guys in one apartment so far.

Stella Zotis in stripey leggings and a vest is pulling her large suitcase toward the Atlas. In a tough, New York-style accent she blogs that she makes custom rockwear for rock stars. We see pix of her clothing on Debbie Harry and Joan Jett and the like. She adds that “hookahs or pimps” or anyone else who can pull it off can wear her clothes, too. She can make clothing to fit hookahs? What if it catches fire?