The latest it girls are not, in fact, girls at all. C.G.I models boast symmetrical faces flawless skin, and pixels rather than pores, but are they ethically problematic?
Virtual models Shudu – created by photographer Cameron-James Wilson – and Lil Miquela – managed by a computer software firm in LA – have secured their places within the fashion elite. Lil Miquela’s first selfie emerged in April 2016, garnering a following that has now reached 1.3 million on Instagram. She’s since been listed in Time Magazine’s 25 Most Influential People On the Internet, acquired collaborations with Prada and Pat McGrath, and most recently landed an editorial in Vogue’s September issue. Meanwhile, Shudu has been dubbed the ‘world’s first digital supermodel’ after going viral when Fenty Beauty reposted an image of her “wearing” the brand’s Mattemoiselle lipstick. Pictures of her have since been liked and commented on by Naomi Campbell, Tyra Banks, and Alicia Keys.
The virtual models represent more than just advances in technology; they are – quite literally – emblems of unrealistic, unattainable beauty standards. In an era of digitally manipulated images, from Snapchat filters to photoshop fails, the emergence of manufactured models is unsurprising but still disconcerting. Their synthetic beauty exacerbates the modern trend for unachievable levels of attractiveness. Psychologist and body image professor Renee Engeln told CNN:
“There is no world in which this is good for women’s health. To know that women are going to be comparing themselves to women who are literally inhuman strikes me as some kind of joke that isn’t very funny.”
The digital influencers have also been criticised for hindering the work and representation of real-life models. Shudu’s creator Wilson has been accused of manipulating the fashion industry’s diversity problem, finding a loophole that allows him to work with a black “woman” without “working with black women,” or ,indeed, paying them. The media has suggested it is wrong for him, a white male, to represent a black woman online or to profit from her. Branded culturally appropriative, Shudu’s previous posts, accompanied with the hashtags #blackisbeautiful and #blackgirlsrock, have also caused a significant backlash.
Wilson maintains Shudu represents real women of colour in an industry that traditionally values lighter skinned models; his aim is not profit, but to bring more diversity to fashion and gaming spaces. Yet surely the fact that Shudu is not a real person negates any notions of representation? Inspired by a special edition “Princess of South Africa” Barbie, Shudu is on the border of a fetish – a white man’s digital projection of black femininity, or as Wilson puts it “a muse for my creative output.”
The issue goes further than inauthentic representation. Shudu is a fake black woman owned and controlled by a man capitalising on a trend. Wilson told Harpers Bazaar:
“There’s a big kind of movement with dark skin models […] she (Shuda) represents them and is inspired by them.”
Wilson has also claimed that rather than replacing human models, Shudu is a criticism of “how fake society has become that a CGI model can pass for real.” Regardless, dark skin shouldn’t be considered a trend or movement.
UK-based company Imagined Reality Modelling Agency conversely believes their portfolio of digital models with ‘faces to fit any campaign’ are the future. They “never argue, need to eat, throw tantrums or get tired.”
Yes, these nonhumans have no human traits (shock), and while this may sound convenient, their lack of authentic identities equates to a lack of emotional connection to their human fans. Not ideal in an age where social media stars rake in millions from their “personal brands” and Youtube fanatics flock, in their masses, to watch “a day in the life of” and “what I ate today” videos.
Frontier tech writer, Jerry Lu, however, argues model avatars appeal to a population of “Millennials and Gen Z who are becoming superfluid with their identities, especially online,” but this doesn’t escape the fact that digital influencers can’t give opinions on clothing fits and textures as real influencers can, nor can they upload immediate photos (CGI images take days to create with the clothes worn also needing to be accurately rendered into 3D). It seems unlikely that holographics are going to storm the runways or appear at promo events any time soon – someone tell the Hadids to hold tight.
Are you a fan of CGI models? Let us know in the comments.
