“Project Runway” should be renamed “Project Wrongway.”

I have to give a friend credit for introducing me to that phrase when we were discussing the ways the series was going down the tubes even before this season started.

Watching the first episode of season six, I saw no sign of Parsons the New School for Design, no New York attitude and it definitely looked like the new Lifetime-owned series was playing it safe as compared to the risqué Bravo fun that I was used to. At least Mood has a West Coast chain because if I had to deal with some scraggly material store, I would have been done with this show weeks ago.

So far, this season has been disappointing. There’s no limb that the designers are going out on to really prove themselves worthy. And there’s no Michael Kors, outside of the first episode. Kors is best known for speaking his mind and telling the designers if their stuff is “slutty, slutty, slutty” or just plain boring. I can’t emphasize this enough: Project Runway needs you back Michael Kors! Or at least throw Nina Garcia back into the lineup. These designers need a voice of reason.

No one is the least bit amusing on the judging panel except for Heidi Klum who just points out the boobs of at least one model a show. And if I’m relying on boob jokes to make me hint at a smile, there’s a problem here Lifetime.

Even the catfights on the catwalk lack claws. And confessionals are drabber than the material that shimmies up – or down – the models because they aren’t tailored right. Last week a guy blamed his crappy dress on iron spittle. He should have just admitted that he made a crappy dress and Tim Gunn called him out on it. But, then all the designers would have to come clean. I know I’m not giving enough credit to those one or two designs that do stand out, but compared to seasons past, even the good ones should have been given the “auf wiedersehen.”

This week will be the breaking point for me. By this Thursday I will have given Project Runway five seasons and six weeks. Six weeks packed of reaching, wishing, feigning interest and nail cleaning (instead of nail biting). If I don’t see some sort of beacon of fashion fierceness outside that of Tim Gunn, I will have to cancel my scheduled programming on my DVR.

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