The Notebook: Sheerluxe’s ‘AI fashion editor’ shows perils of trying to be cutting edge
Sheerluxe's decision to hire an 'AI-enhanced fashion editor' shows the perils of trying to be cutting edge, writes Anna Moloney.
Where the City’s movers and shakers have their say. Today, it’s our deputy comment editor Anna Moloney with the pen, talking Labour stash, penguin architecture and Sheerluxe’s AI editor
Fancy taking lifestyle advice from a robot? No, me neither
When criticising AI, there is always the risk of looking like a cranky Luddite, but sometimes there really is reason to smash that cotton mill – and the latest move from women’s lifestyle publication Sheerluxe might be one of those.
The online publication this week announced it had hired a new fashion and lifestyle editor: Reem. The catch? She’s a robot, or as Sheerluxe put it, an “AI-enhanced editor”. What exactly this means is unclear, but the bot takes the appearance of an extremely attractive Arab woman, dressed in Sheerluxe-approved clothing with AI-generated images of her posing for selfies in the publication’s Clapham office. Her inaugural post, published on the website on Tuesday, outlines her favourite designers (Gucci), food spots (The Park on Queenway) and makeup products (the Fenty contour match stix) – all despite the fact she is not a real person and cannot possibly use makeup or go to restaurants.
The reaction has been predictably negative. Not only does an AI-generated influencer do nothing to relieve what has long been women’s magazines’ greatest criticism – the setting of (in this case literally) unobtainable beauty standards – there is also simply no demand to be recommended ‘lifestyle’ choices from a robot.
While the bot’s ‘ethnicity’ has not been explicitly disclosed, its racial coding has also angered many, with readers arguing the brand should have just hired a real woman of colour for the role rather than creating an AI bot.
The brand’s response to the backlash? Initially not much, with the publication’s Instagram yesterday announcing the company was taking a “duvet day to unwind, switch off and maybe stay in bed” (so much for AI productivity gains). However, the publication later posted an apology on social media, saying Reem was created in partnership with an AI imagery creator from the Middle East and that she was not replacing a human role, while also acknowledging that “she is an AI generated image only, and is not able to create content or articles”.
Looking to impress?
Look no further, the Labour merch shop has just launched THREE new ranges so you can show off your centrist credentials. Pieces from the Landslide range, the Victory range and the Change range could be yours from as little as £5, with pins, posters and socks up for grabs. But be quick, the last merchandise drive sold out in less than 24 hours apparently.
An unpopular opinion
Got the post-Euros blues? Not me. Turns out I may be the only person in the country who’s glad the whole hullabaloo is over. My reasoning? Simply, that I’m a misery. It’s lonely being a hater but I’m sure there are others out there who also simply couldn’t convince themselves to care about the football – do get in touch so we can moan together. The Olympics are coming and it feels me with dread.
Impressing the penguins
We all know instinctively that the buildings around us affect our mood, but a recent article in The Economist showed that it’s not just human prissiness: penguins too need beauty. London Zoo’s 1934-built penguin pool was hailed as a modernist masterpiece, but the penguins (“modernist pin-ups” according to the magazine) were not happy, with the white walls too bright for their eyes and the concrete too hard for their feet. A cautionary tale for the need for form and function.
There was just one problem with this piece of modernist perfection. The penguins didn’t like it. The Economist on the fate of London Zoo’s modernist
penguin pool
A novel way to spend your Thursday
Last week I found out Hackney City Farm is not just a haven for donkeys but also would-be ceramicists, with the farm hosting drop-in pottery sessions every Wednesday and Thursday. The operation, run by a man covered head to toe in clay, is fabulously chaotic. The website lists the session’s hours as 7-9pm, but the clay man doesn’t abide by those rules and will let you stay until 11 to finish your pottery masterpiece. For £20 you can make as much as you want, put it in the kiln and come back a week later to pick up your collection. I was warned that it’s easy to get trapped in the cycle of picking up your pot and not being able to resist making another. But there are worse addictions out there.