A team member dropped by my desk last week, coffee in hand, sporting a mischievous grin. “You’ve got to see this,” she said, pulling up Mango’s latest ad campaign. “These models? All AI.” She wasn’t outraged or worried – she was fascinated. And while the internet is having a collective meltdown about “false advertising,” I can’t help but think we’re all missing the forest for the perfectly rendered, algorithmically optimized trees.
Look, I get the knee-jerk reaction. There’s something uncanny about these digital models, like a fashion show in the uncanny valley. But calling this “false advertising” is like saying Marvel movies are lying to us because Thor isn’t really fighting actual frost giants. Advertising has always been a fantasy – we’re just updating the special effects.
Remember the first time you realized that the cheese in burger ads was painted with glycerin to make it gleam? Or that your favorite magazine cover was Photoshopped? How about those IKEA catalogs where 75% of the furniture shots are completely digital renders? We didn’t storm the gates with pitchforks then. Because we all understand that ads aren’t documentaries – they’re visual stories about what could be.
And let’s be honest: traditional fashion photography isn’t exactly a bastion of unvarnished truth. Models are chosen from a tiny subset of humanity, photographed under perfect lighting, and then digitally altered anyway. At least with AI models, we can program in actual diversity instead of just talking about it. Want to see that dress on different body types? Click. Different skin tones? Click. Try doing that with a traditional photo shoot without blowing your entire yearly budget.
The real elephant in the room isn’t deception – it’s disruption. When people say they’re worried about AI models being “fake,” what they’re often really saying is they’re worried about jobs. That’s a legitimate concern. But it’s also not new. Photography put portrait painters out of business. Digital cameras decimated Kodak. Yet somehow, we’ve got more working artists and photographers today than ever before.
Here’s a weird comparison: think about lab-grown diamonds. They’re technically “fake,” but they’re also chemically identical to mined diamonds, better for the environment, and don’t require sending anyone into dangerous mines. Are they less “real” than traditional diamonds? Ask a physicist – or better yet, ask someone shopping for an engagement ring on a budget.
AI models are similar. They’re not trying to fool anyone – my designer spotted them instantly, remember? They’re tools that make it easier and cheaper for brands to show their clothes on a wider variety of body types in more situations, with less environmental impact than flying people and equipment around the globe for photo shoots.
Should brands disclose when they’re using AI models? Absolutely. Not because it’s deceptive but because transparency builds trust. Plus, let’s be real – we’re all going to be able to spot them anyway, just like my designer did. The uncanny valley isn’t going anywhere soon.
The truth is, AI models aren’t the enemy of authenticity – they’re just the latest evolution in a long history of advertising tools. They’re no more “fake” than the perfectly lit, carefully styled rooms in a West Elm catalog. And just like those catalogs, they’re not trying to deceive us – they’re trying to help us imagine possibilities.
So maybe, instead of clutching our pearls about whether AI models are “real” enough, we should ask how we can use this technology to show more diversity, reduce waste, and make fashion more accessible to everyone. Because, like it or not, AI is here to stay. The question isn’t whether we’ll use it – it’s how we’ll use it well.