Even for the most technologically-literate, the images generated by Nano Banana 4 are almost indistinguishable from reality. Analysing the first examples was eerie; we are watching the death of photo evidence in real time.
AI imagery has been slowly trickling into social media feeds, advertising, media and cinema for years. But in the last 12- to 24-months, the flood gates have well and truly opened.
I recently attended a showcase for a new phone. During the session we were shown how easy it is to completely alter a photo using written prompts. “Add drinks to the table”, “make the dress black”, “add a beach in the background”. This kind of software is available on consumer-grade devices, to anyone and everyone.
So what happens when anyone with a phone can edit themselves into a hyper-polished scene on a private jet or into the crowd of the Australian Open, and with perfect hair and plenty of designer accessories? Those kinds of perfectly-staged photos become kind of cringey.
It’s undeniable that the social media aesthetic du jour has been moving away from picture-perfect curation towards something that is authentic for a while now. Some might argue this is a rather curated version of “authenticity” (it’s still Instagram after all). But it is more authentic none the less.
The “Instagram dump”, a trend that emerged in 2020, was one of the first markers of this change. Unedited, unplanned and unfussy, Instagram dumps show off deliberately fish-eyed angles, dirty plates on cafe tables, messy bedrooms, opened snack packets and photos on the move.
In the years since the birth of the Instagram dump, this move towards imperfection has evolved from a preference into a trend in its own right, something many have coined: the anti-AI aesthetic. Think: designer bags that are overstuffed and heavily used, dirty mirror selfies, photos taken while crying, bad angles and blurred night shots
A particularly prevalent hallmark of this shift is the ‘sink photo’. A modern antidote to the perfectly curated “shelfie”, sink shot is a realistic shot of a “get ready with me” scene-scape. Products are scattered, pressed powders are broken and bottles are left open. The exact way your bathroom might actually look as you run late for work or for an event. In my research for this piece I came across a Business of Fashion article explaining this phenomenon exactly.
It is deeper than simply a preference for messy and underproduced photos. There is also a growing desire for the analogue within this aesthetic. Wired headphones are now one of the coolest accessories you can own, and a mainstay in the marketing of the most intelligent and viral brands. Engaging in or boasting offline hobbies (“having-a-life-core” as it’s been called) has never been chicer. Vintage phones, vinyl records and handwritten letters are all exploding in popularity.
These hobbies represent a sanctuary that is free from the fatiguing AI slop that has infected many of our favourite online spaces and caused them to rot. But they’re also proof-of-life. Proof you are human.The average person is posting far less content to their social media platforms than in the past, Adam Mosseri Head of Instagram has said this himself. But when people do post, the savviest creators ensure they document clear evidence of their busy – if slightly imperfect – offline lifestyles.
Whether it’s a messy sink photo or blurred snap at a pottery class, the idea is that these collections of photos are a “true” snap shot of life. One that feels connected and intimate, rather than staged and sterile. It’s an aesthetic that is as far removed from the sickly polish of AI generated imagery that you can get. Because the mere suggestion that your pictures, your writing or any of your content could look and feel as though it was generated with AI is arguably one of the harshest criticisms you could face as a modern content creator.
While many of us are now required to use AI and some generative AI for work and study, the Pew Research Center shows that public sentiment is largely negative. Most people believe AI worsens creativity and a large segment said they believe it also worsens problem solving. Another recent study showed that any positive feelings towards AI are actually linked to people with lower literacy rates.
The reality is, most people don’t like AI, despite what your average Linkedin influencer would have you believe. Yes, every friend group has one person that uses ChatGPT to decide what to order at a restaurant, but generally most people either don’t enjoy using it or are educated enough to understand how harmful generative AI is to our society, culture and environment. And this attitude is informing the way we think about the content we create but also what and how we consume.
The anti-AI aesthetic and sentiment is also now trickling its way into advertising and content marketing too. There are too many examples to count. Viral beauty brand Merit is choosing to feature heavily-used, and rather beat-up iterations of its products in imagery. So is Dieux Skin. So is Grown Alchemist. I could go on. It’s a stark contrast to the pristine and untouched lipsticks and blushes we’re used to seeing in ads.
The Gruen Transfer recently discussed the notion of using AI in advertising. For some brands it looks like an affordable, quick and scaleable option. But as Todd Sampson sagely advised, “fashion doesn’t just sell fabric.” Most brands sell an idea, not just a product. They sell aspiration, connection and identity – concepts that are mutually exclusive from anything AI generated. As the anti-AI aesthetic continues to grow in popularity, using AI in your ads is actually a risk for many brands and has been met with significant backlash.
Some brands have gone one step further than simply choosing to continue to create real-world content. They’re explicitly highlighting to consumers that they actively did not use AI. Take the recent Nike Skims campaign filmed on Sydney Harbour. Others like Apple have released a deconstructed BTS video to show how its Macbook Neo ad was made without the use of AI. It’s a new way to create trust and to even boast to your audience, showing you actually created something, breaking the polish of the fourth wall in the process.
Dropping the veil and inviting the audience inside the making of your marketing material could soon become an incredibly important tool for brands, as any kind of polish is met with increasing skepticism – and even dislike.
Head of Instagram, Adam Mosseri recently dove into this topic in a post on the new value of creator content. “In a world where AI can generate flawless imagery, the professional look becomes the tell,” he wrote. “Flattering imagery is cheap to produce and boring to consume. People want content that feels real. Savvy creators are leaning into unproduced, unflattering images.”
“Rawness isn’t just an aesthetic preference anymore – it’s proof. It’s defensive. A way of saying: this is real because it’s imperfect.”
There is no humanity in AI content, whether it’s visual or written. There’s no voice, or energy or identity. It’s uncanny valley. It’s alien. But perhaps most pertinently, it is not luxurious. Luxury and what is considered “cool” is always found in what is hard to obtain. This is certainly not a new concept. Controlling supply is a long-standing tool across many industries to ensure a product or look retains its prestige reputation. As it stands, AI is about as democratised and ‘uncontrolled’ as it gets. Anyone with an internet connection can generate an AI photo in just a few seconds.
And, if an AI can generate the perfectly polished picture of you in a business class seat, the only picture that can feel truly luxurious is a bad one.
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