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Some virtual fashion companies, brands, users and sales methods

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PUMA released the "zero-day" environmental protection alliance series in cooperation with the fashion major of Central London Saint Martins College of Art and Design (Central Saint Martin). A project of the same name launched by the Cape Town government abroad. In addition, there is the overall vision of the Dutch creative team The Fabricant Knife-the virtual model in trendy clothing is in sharp contrast with the desolate natural wisdom of the mummy.

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“Marée Noire” merges photography with CGI imagery, blurring the boundaries between digital and physical.

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MARINE SERRE - MARÉE NOIRE Movie Spring/Summer 2020

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“3D and fashion were two worlds destined to collide.”

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Virtual or real? Fashion world split over digital supermodels

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The three women gazing into the camera in an advert for French luxury label Balmain look like they could fit in at any high-end shoot, but Shudu, Margot and Zhi are “digital models” whose rise is dividing the fashion world.

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Digital Model Producer & Modelling Agency

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Digital Model Producer & Modelling Agency

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Wilson has made six more virtual models, who starred alongside Shudu in Balmain’s pre-fall 2018 campaign. Together, they make up ‘The Diigitals’ - the world’s first all-digital modelling agency launched by Wilson.

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Meet The Man Behind The World’s First Digital Supermodel

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Move over Lil Miquela, newcomer Shudu is here to stay

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Shudu, the model behind the page @shudu.gram is being called one of the most beautiful models on Instagram. Although new on to the scene, Shudu has caused a fair amount of controversy, hinging around the fact that she's not actually real, but a project from photographer Cameron James-Wilson.

In 2018, fashion, tech, and augmented realities have been fusing together at a rapid rate. Two weeks ago, Dolce & Gabbana sent drones down the runway to model handbags and virtual influencer Lil' Miquela talked her audience through the latest GIF sets from Prada in Milan. In these times, the emergence of an entirely digital model such as Shudu isn't much of surprise. It is unusual though.

So where did she come from? And what do people think of her? We spoke to Shudu's "creator," Cameron, who creates every image of Shudi with a painstaking level of detail from his computer. Cameron estimates that a single image takes about three full days work - and that's not including the weeks of planning.

"I've been inspired by quite a few people," says Cameron of his initial conception for Shudu. "But her main inspiration is a South African Princess Barbie. Obviously, her real-life inspirations are pulled from so many different women - Lupita, Duckie Thot and Nykhor - even throwing it back to Alek Wek, who was a massive influence on how I saw beauty growing up."

The first few images posted to Shudu's Instagram account received a lot of attention. There were people applauding her beauty ("God took his time on you"), while some photographers slid into her DMs with requests to set up a shoot. It's a testament to the hyper-real level of detail in Cameron's 3D modeling.

In the study of aesthetics, there's a concept known as the "uncanny valley." This describes the eerie feeling that arises when objects look human, but not quite (mannequins, dolls, Sophia the Robot etc.) Shudu is notable for being post-uncanny valley, appearing so human that most people, even with a closer look, wouldn't suspect that she's CGI.

The attention for Shudu started to snowball when Rihanna's beauty brand Fenty reposted an image of her wearing the brand's lipstick. The image (created without Fenty's involvement and at the suggestion of Cameron's younger sister), exceeded the average amount of Instagram likes and engagement almost four-fold with some 222,000 likes compared to an average of around 50,000. At the time, it hadn't been disclosed whether or not Shudu was a real person; her Instagram bio simply repeated the comment left under her photos: "who is she?"

Following the exposure that comes with a co-sign from Rihanna, Cameron began responding to private messages to clarify that Shudu was an art project.

Of course, posting on social media welcomes a full spectrum of opinions about one's work, including criticism, too. Some users observed that the manufacturing of a black woman's image by a photographer - a white male nonetheless - takes up the space that could be filled by an IRL model, and any profit from this comes at the detriment of real careers.

"The comments that have been most critical of what I'm doing have been from white women, which was kind of unexpected. I had dark skinned girls and women message me to say that they absolutely love the art that I'm doing," says Cameron. "This is why I like to do interviews: to show people what's behind it. This is not trying to take away from anyone but it is trying to add to the standard of beauty that's being shifted to something much more inclusive."

Is it possible that the existence of Shudu's Instagram page could be pushing other would-be models out the door ? "I don't really see Shudu as a money spinner or a business for me," says Cameron, "It's more of an expression, and when I've had companies approach me, if what they want doesn't reflect in what I see for her then it's a no go. You know it doesn't matter about the money or things like that. Because it's not why I started Shudu. I started her for me, to express myself."

Cameron also points out that in his creation of Shudu, he found it challenging to create someone in her image, due to a lack of available software. "Just the same as in many industries, the 3D world is sorely lacking ethnic diversity and black characters and assets are particularly rare," he says. "There's a push to shift this, and with the advancement of tech and 3D industries, we can expect a change. But it's one thing that Shudu is contributing to in her own way. It wasn't something intentional from the start, but now I'm very interested in helping to create the resources needed for game developers and 3D designers to make more diverse characters".

Is this signalling a shift from IRL human models to "perfect" CGI replacements? At the rate it takes to create an image of someone like Shudu, and not forgetting that all the clothes would need to be accurately rendered in 3D too, it seems unlikely. "I don't see her or virtual people taking over the real world," says Cameron. "The work that's involved is extremely intense. The only reason I can make Shudu what she is is because I have a knowledge of photography, hair, make up."

Unless a major fashion brand decides to cast someone like Shudu in a campaign (and works out the technical logistics of doing so), digital models like her will probably remain as art pieces, albeit with a huge social following.

What do you think of the digital supermodel?
In other news, Kelela turns herself into a character from The Sims for her new music video for "Frontline".

Photography: Cameron James-Wilson

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Shudu, the First Digital Supermodel: What You Need to Know

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Shudu, the model behind the page @shudu.gram is being called one of the most beautiful models on Instagram. Although new on to the scene, Shudu has caused a fair amount of controversy, hinging around the fact that she's not actually real, but a project from photographer Cameron James-Wilson.

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Industry trend- Virtual Modeling Agency- Gen V

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Industry trend- Virtual Modeling Agency- Gen V

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Wong launched Gen V Agency, a virtual modeling agency, whereby she creates lifelike 3D virtual models that give clients new ways to promote their apparel, accessories and brand messages.

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Over lunch this spring, Nikola Burnett, a 15-year-old who always carries two cameras - one film and one digital - sat staring at an Instagram selfie, perplexed. The subject was Miquela Sousa, better known as Lil Miquela, a 19-year-old Brazilian-American model, musical artist, and influencer with over a million Instagram followers, who is computer-generated. "She's not real, right?" Nikola asked me shyly. She knew the answer, but something about Miquela made her question what her eyes were telling her.

At first glance, or swipe, Miquela could understandably be mistaken for a living, breathing person. She wears real-life clothes by streetwear brands like Supreme and luxury labels like Chanel. She hangs out with real-life musicians, artists, and influencers in real-life trendy restaurants in New York and Los Angeles, where she "lives." When Miquela holds her phone to a mirror, her reflection stares back. When she is photographed in the daylight, her body casts a shadow. She even complains about allergies and often references the temperature with tweets like "39 degrees out im still getting this iced matcha."

In selfies, you can see the freckles on Miquela's face; her gap-toothed smile. But up close, her brown hair, often pulled into Princess Leia-esque buns, looks airbrushed (Twitter users have noted that her flyaway frizz always falls in the same pattern). Her skin reads as smooth as the glass screen that separates us. And when you peer into Miquela's big brown eyes, she fails the ultimate test of humanity. No, Miquela isn't real - at least not like you and me. She is an avatar puppeteered by Brud, a mysterious L.A.-based start-up of "engineers, storytellers, and dreamers" who claim to specialize in artificial intelligence and robotics.

Until my conversation with Nikola, it seemed like an indisputable fact that Miquela wasn't real. But then I remembered something similar had happened to me in February as I watched the Instagram livestream of Gucci's fall 2018 show. Inspired by Donna Haraway's 1984 A Cyborg Manifesto, the collection was a hybrid of actual and fantastical references. Two models carried replicas of their own heads down the runway, while another cradled a "dragon puppy" that looked like it had come straight from Game of Thrones. Maybe it was the jet lag - I was in Milan for Fashion Week - or maybe it was the dizzying effect of good art, but something moved me to text my editor, seated in the front row: "Those dragons weren't real ... Right?"

We humans have been tripping over the differences between real and fake ever since our forebears saw shadows on cave walls. But it used to be that real-looking fake humans were confined to Disney parks, movies, music videos, or video games. We could turn them off, or leave them behind. Now they occupy spaces once reserved for real-life people experiencing real-life things.

Like having your Instagram account hacked. Miquela is positioned as a social-justice warrior of sorts, and on April 18, a pro-Trump, self-proclaimed "robot supremacist" CGI character named Bermuda wiped her account clean, posting photos of herself, instead. She proceeded to accuse Miquela of being a "fake ass person" who was duping her followers (the irony being that Bermuda isn't real either). Then she issued an ultimatum: Miquela couldn't have her account back until she promised to "tell people the truth."

Naturally, this got Miquela's followers, or "Miquelites," all worked up. "Bring back the real Miquela!" they cried. Conspiracy-driven corners of the internet linked the hack to a theory that the world was going to end on April 18, coincidentally via a robot takeover. For the average Instagram user, though, it was like watching a soap opera unfold on their phones. "Why is robot drama more dramatic than my life," wrote one.

In the end, Miquela's big reveal was shocking only in its obviousness: "I'm not a human being," she said when Bermuda relinquished her account. "I'm a robot." Miquela blamed Brud for leading her (and consequently her fans) to believe otherwise. But, of course, that was also her creators talking.

If this is starting to sound like the plot of Westworld, that's the point. Miquela's "hack" seems to be an elaborate PR stunt orchestrated by Brud (though as is its Oz-like wont, Brud insists that another AI company called Cain Intelligence begat Bermuda). To what end, though? Was this just a way to vault Miquela into the influencer stratosphere, so beauty and fashion brands would pay her handsomely to peddle their wares? (The buzz generated by Bermuda's attack did push her to over a million followers, a benchmark that opens up new partnership opportunities.)

Or was this a Kanye West-style press junket to stir controversy before an album drop? Brud co-founder Trevor McFedries has a past life as a DJ and music producer, working with Katy Perry, Kesha, and Azealia Banks under the moniker "Yung Skeeter." And Miquela has two delicately Auto-Tuned pop singles on Spotify, which have amassed a combined 1.5 million streams. I listened to one of them for a month before realizing it was sung by a robot that I happened to follow on Instagram.

The plot thickens when you know that McFedries, according to his LinkedIn account, used to work at Bad Robot, the production company of famed sci-fi director J. J. Abrams. Maybe all of this is an extended trailer for Abrams's next film, in which Miquela could potentially star. Or could Brud be pursuing something more ambitious with Bad Robot's help? The start-up reportedly raised as much as $6 million from big-ticket investment firms like Sequoia Capital in a recent funding round. It's not a huge number, but enough to suggest that the faux hack isn't just some elaborate joke.

One tantalizing theory proffered by L.A. techies has it that Brud's plan is to move Miquela from Instagram to a Brud-built social network where anyone with an iPhone can create, dress, and promote his or her own personal CGI model. "Maybe it's more of a Bitmoji-style product," speculates Kyle Russell, a former deal partner at a Silicon Valley firm. "That said, we don't know enough about their tech to really say if they would be great at that. Also, I don't know if that would have been an appealing pitch to VCs. There's far more value in the distribution of a celebrity on these platforms without the cost of having to pay a [real-life] celebrity."

We're forced (or allowed) to indulge in all this mad speculation because the company that puts words into Miquela's Kylie Jenner full-lipped mouth mostly refuses to talk specs. In what's either a brilliant strategy to heighten the suspense or an annoying affectation - probably both - Brud only preaches grandiose ideas about fighting fake news with fake news, and using influencers to make the world a better place.

Even if there isn't a hidden endgame for Lil Miquela, she holds up a mirror to the ways in which technology has morphed our own constructions of self. We don't yet live in a world where realistic-looking fake humans roam the streets, but in the meantime, technology has transformed us into fake-looking real humans. Social-media personalities like the Kardashians alter their bodies and edit images of themselves so heavily that CGI characters somehow blend naturally into our feeds. Influencers, who were once a novelty in the industry for their unfiltered content, have also become burnished personal brands. Meanwhile, the average Instagram, Snapchat, or Weibo user has access to apps and filters that eliminate the need for makeup or plastic surgery altogether.

During a rare "phone interview" with YouTube conspiracy theorist Shane Dawson last year, Miquela deflected the question of whether her images are edited: "Can you name one person on Instagram who doesn't edit their photos?"

When Miquela first appeared on Instagram two years ago, her features were less idealized. Her skin was pale, her hair less styled. Now she looks like every other Instagram influencer. She'll rest her unsmiling face in her hands to convey nonchalance, or look away from the camera as though she's been caught in the act. The effect is twisted: Miquela seems more real by mimicking the body language that renders models less so.

Miquela's outfits and poses aren't especially racy, yet she attracts the same fetishized gaze as anyone else selling her own image. "So beautiful," one guy wrote on a post where a bit of cleavage can be detected, adding drooling emoji. "@LilMiquela Ur so pretty," wrote a young woman on Twitter. "I wish I was that pretty." Others have even asked for her skin-care routine.

In this way, Miquela represents perhaps the pinnacle of unrealistic beauty standards. How can we compete with someone who never ages or gets hungry and who can be in ten different places at once? Could the result be that real-life models and influencers become obsolete, or will their likenesses be frozen in time and replicated ad infinitum? There's conjecture that Miquela is a mix of animation and photographs, of a female human. But the techniques used to create her are heavily guarded by Brud, and at least one influencer who posed chummily with Miquela told me she couldn't share details because was bound by an NDA.

Whatever Lil Miquela's secret sauce, similar technology is being used to make others like her. The most prominent is Shudu, created by the British former photographer Cameron-James Wilson. After a decade working in fashion, Wilson says he became "disenchanted" by the industry. "Nothing really represents reality," he laments. He's wearing heavy makeup, some of which has rubbed off on his black hoodie.

His experience Photoshopping real people to look fake informed how he makes his fake people look real, Wilson explains. "I always saw that peach fuzz was very distracting in a photo. So, the very first thing I thought when I was designing my character was that I needed to add peach fuzz." Wilson freely reveals that he uses 3-D-animation tools called Daz3D and Clo3D to make his muses, adding that he'd never mess with photography. That's "archaic," he says.

Peach fuzz notwithstanding, Shudu presents as a stunning black woman with flawless dark-brown skin. Her eyes, Wilson says, were inspired by the supermodel Iman and her overall look by Princess of South Africa Barbie, who favors gold choker necklaces that resemble those of the Ndebele people.

Thanks in part to a Fenty Beauty repost, Shudu has more than 100,000 followers. But because Wilson is a 28-year-old white man, his work has sparked as much controversy as admiration. "A white photographer figured out a way to profit off black women without ever having to pay one," wrote one Twitter user, picking up 52,000-plus likes. "Black models, specifically dark-skin black models are not a trend," wrote another. In a piece for The New Yorker, writer Lauren Michele Jackson said Wilson's work made her think of blackface minstrels.

"I just wanted a beautiful muse to come home to," Wilson protests. Yet now that he's in the thick of it, he believes Shudu has sparked an important conversation about representation, even if he has been misunderstood. "Shudu is a platform to showcase fashion designs from brands I feel share similar views to me in terms of top-down diversity," he says, adding that his work is about art and collaboration, not monetization. So far, he says, he's turned down paid partnership offers, and every brand he's promoted has a person of color or woman in a position of power.

Brud, too, has expressed altruistic goals, arguing that promoting diversity among robots will change the way humans treat each other. Miquela urges her followers to donate to Black Lives Matter and LGBTQ+ causes, and she sold a line of "Uncanny Valley Girl" merch to raise funds for victims of the California fires. McFedries, who is black - his co-founder Sara DeCou is Latina - has said that, like Wilson, Brud only accepted venture capital from firms with "a woman or person of color in a position to write them a check." The pair also issued a statement this spring comparing the impact they hope to have to Will & Grace: a seemingly frivolous media confection that had "real-life impact on marriage equality." As with all things Brud, it's hard to tell if they're trolling us with this reference or if they've been sipping too much of the Silicon Valley Kool-Aid.

The Federal Trade Commission requires influencers to disclose when they're paid to tout a product, and so far Lil Miquela hasn't done that. (Fashion-law expert Julie Zerbo says there's no reason that a CGI character's creators would be exempt from the FTC rules.) And in another of her "interviews," Miquela told the Business of Fashion in February that she hadn't earned a dime from any of her collaborations. She borrows or gets free swag from designers, she says, though that was before she promoted a series of gifs inspired by the Prada collection during Milan Fashion Week. (Prada declined to comment on whether Brud was paid.)

Which brings us back to the nagging question of what Brud's up to. One of the oddest strands of the whole story is why they chose a right-wing troll to out Miquela, ultimately painting themselves as the bad guys. Thinking hard about it - okay, maybe too hard - it occurs to me that the hack could have been a clever bit of jujitsu to build fans' trust in Lil Miquela. Because Brud "lied" to her about her origins, she could come clean about being computer-generated while seeming ever more sincere about her "woke" consciousness.

"I'm not sure I can comfortably identify as a woman of color," a recent Instagram post from Miquela said. " 'Brown' was a choice made by a corporation. 'Woman' was an option on a computer screen."

Post-hack, Miquela declared herself a "free agent" who'd no longer work with Brud. Support for her choice poured in, with Riley Keough, the actress and granddaughter of Elvis Presley, sending her a heart emoji and gossip blogger Perez Hilton calling her a "shero." Meanwhile, thousands of others didn't seem to care that she wasn't real. "I know this is crazy but I believe you," wrote one commenter. "Even though you are a robot physically, everything else is human."

Presumably, Miquela is still operated by Brud, even if the company is now focusing its promotional efforts on Blawko, her male equivalent with significantly fewer followers. The freedom she gained by admitting she wasn't real, though, is something a lot of us real-lifers wish for ourselves. We spend so much time pretending that hip parties and cool people are an organic part of our lives - that we aren't curating the narratives we put out in the world. What a perverse relief it would be to confess that everything is fake! It brings to mind the Buddhist doctrine of no-self, of how liberating it might be to recognize that there is no real "you" that must be clung to, that has to be propped up and defended.

Existential philosophizing aside, we continue to follow Lil Miquela and her cohorts - even if we know they're not real - because we're suckers for a good story. (You've made it this far.) It's possible that what you see is what you get with Brud. But maybe we hope that there will be a way one day to fully upload ourselves online, and let go. There is no grand plan; they're just a bunch of righteous millennials with a good idea and a genuine love of Will & Grace.

When I asked Nikola if she'd ever Miquela-ify herself, at first she said why not? It would be fun to wear clothes she couldn't afford; it wasn't so different from building a character of herself in the Sims. But then Nikola second-guessed her original answer. "You can get lost in that world so easily," she said. "It would be hard to stop."

*This article appears in the May 14, 2018, issue of New York Magazine. Subscribe Now!

A Pro-Trump Troll Hacked Instagram's Favorite Virtual Influencer

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Miquela Sousa, a.k.a. Lil Miquela, has over 1 million followers on Instagram and was recently hacked by a Trump troll. But she's a digital avatar created by a L.A.-based start-up called Brud.

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Looklet, a Sweden-based design company, is already working with major online fashion retailers like H&M and Vente-Privee to present their stock on virtual clotheshorses.

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Courtesy of Looklet
For online fashion retailers, displaying an ever-changing selection of clothing can pose a major logistical and financial challenge.

Enter virtual models-computer-generated ladies and gentlemen who can strike a pose, look good in anything, and don't require makeup or a paycheck.
Click here to jump right to the digital models >>
Looklet, a Sweden-based design company, is already working with major online fashion retailers like H&M and Vente-Privee to present their stock on virtual clotheshorses.

Looklet co-founders Adam Berg and Robert Ahlborg answered questions about why virtual models are good for online retailers, how the models are created, and what digitally crafted models say about body image.
What was the original concept for Looklet? Did you always plan to partner with retailers and fashion companies?
The original idea was that we wanted to create a styling tool online, where users could combine real garments on real models. Although this was primarily targeted at the end consumer, we knew from the start that this product would interest fashion retailers online.

The idea of it as the b2b solution for creating images that is our main focus today grew organically as our licensing customers understood how they could achieve higher quality and save money with our process.
What are the advantages for a retailer who uses digital models on its website, as opposed to actual models?
Normally e-commerce fashion companies handle a huge amount of images every day creating the digital product description. The shooting needs planning, preparation and big budgets. It needs specific locations, models and large teams of special competences. This old way of doing things is extremely time consuming and also costs a lot of money.

We came into this business with fresh eyes and have re-invented the workflow of the traditional shoot by breaking it into separate pieces where products, models, backgrounds, effects are shot separately - all made in a far more technical, faster and industrialized manner. The final image is then put together in the last stage through our software combining the different elements.

This creates client control of the image creation instead of they being dependent on attending the actual photoshoot managing photographers, models and makeup teams. Our process creates consistent high quality through the industrialization and also saves a lot of money since the big teams of models, photographers are no longer needed.
How do you create the models? Are they based on actual humans?

Exactly how we do it is something that I can not disclose but everything you see in the end result is photos of real humans and real garments. We avoid working with virtual images because it's extremely time consuming, if even possible, to achieve the same quality as photography. We're a bit of old school magicians, masters of smoke and mirrors.

We have an always growing number of different body shapes and poses available for both men and women, and we also create new body shapes on demand, giving our clients the freedom to chose whatever body they want to display their products on.
How do you respond to critics who say that virtual models are unrealistic and put even more pressure on women to be thin?
A relevant discussion, but as we offer any body type, it's the client that has the end choice on how it wants to present its products.
What does the future look like for the company? Are there expansion plans? Do you expect virtual models to become the norm for online shopping? Elsewhere?
We have huge interest in our product from all around the world. E-commerce fashion companies around the world struggle with the problem of handling thousands and thousands of images in an effective way. We have very good hopes and big plans for helping them out. Stay tuned.

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These Virtual Models Could Be The Future Of Online Shopping

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For online fashion retailers, displaying an ever-changing selection of clothing can pose a major logistical and financial challenge. Enter virtual models-computer-generated ladies and gentlemen who can strike a pose, look good in anything, and don't require makeup or a paycheck.

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Questionnaire for Virtual Model Producers

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Questionnaire for Virtual Model Producers

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Questionnaire for Virtual Model Producers

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Questionnaire for Virtual Model Producers

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“Virtual supermodels are only likely to be the beginning of a digital overhaul of the fashion world.“ Said Wilson.

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At first glance, there appeared to be nothing unusual about the three supermodels chosen to launch Balmain's fashion campaign in September. The high cheekbones, flawless complexions and piercing stares could grace any glossy magazine or catwalk runway. They were not like other models, though: they had been entirely conjured up by computer software.

Margot, Shudu and Zhi - the names given to Balmain's trio of CGI models - are part of the French fashion house's "new virtual army". Other designer brands are likely to enlist digital troops of their own - ones that are cheaper, just as eye-catching and easier to work with than real models. The use of virtual influencers in the fashion world is not without its critics, however: Michael Kors is not a fan, stating that he is "into real people with personalities and opinions".

While some have championed these computer-generated beauties as modern examples of digital art, others have queried the potentially damaging effect they could have on beauty standards. One way or the other, the impact of these new virtual superstars is likely to be significant. Many of them have amassed hundreds of thousands of social media followers, and their numbers are growing all the time.

CGI-catching
When British photographer Cameron-James Wilson combined his passion for personalising Barbie dolls with his ability to create unique gaming avatars, he couldn't possibly have imagined the impact it would have on both his life and the fashion world. His digital creation, Shudu, had not long been posted to his personal Facebook page before a friend shared it on Instagram. The comments came flooding in.

A CGI influencer is far less likely to damage a firm's image by saying or doing something that is considered antithetical to its brand

Although Wilson was upfront about the fact Shudu was not a real model, the photorealistic nature of his creation meant that many people, including notable celebrities like Alicia Keys and Tyra Banks, thought that she was. This is testament to the quality of Wilson's work, with each image taking approximately three full days to complete, in addition to weeks of planning.

"I created Shudu using a digital program called DAZ 3D that focuses on character creation," Wilson told European CEO. "You basically work from a blank mannequin and build the character by slowly changing and customising every part of the body and skin texture/tone. It's definitely time-consuming, but I find it a lot of fun, so I can't say it's labour-intensive."

As Shudu's social media following grew, Wilson began receiving offers from fashion and cosmetic brands hoping to collaborate. In addition to the Balmain campaign, the digital model has been used by Tiffany and the Bahrain-based womenswear firm Noon By Noor. But Shudu is not the only digital creation to capture the attention of major designers, nor is she the first. Brands are well aware of the reach and influence that these virtual influencers can bring to their marketing campaigns.

Miquela Sousa - or Lil Miquela, as she is better known - has 1.5 million followers on Instagram and, back in February, was used to promote Prada's Fall 2018 collection. Like Shudu, she is computer generated; in contrast with Wilson's creation, she prefers to blur the lines between reality and fiction.

As well as promoting products made by the likes of Chanel and Vans, Lil Miquela's creators have given her political views, virtual friends and an ongoing narrative. Many real-life figures are happy to play along: she has been 'pictured' alongside Nile Rodgers and Diplo, while a number of media outlets have conducted interviews with her. Lil Miquela also has an online 'frenemy' in the form of a more right-wing virtual avatar called Bermuda, and has even started a music career.

Going out of fashion
While the success of digital influencers like Lil Miquela and Shudu may seem slightly bizarre - particularly to anyone who avoids social media fads - it does make sense from a business perspective. Brud, the Los-Angeles-based start-up responsible for creating Lil Miquela, has received millions of euros of venture capital investment.

Moreover, although some of these virtual models are sharing their lives on social media, the fact they are controlled by a creative agency gives companies choosing to partner with them added protection. For example, a CGI influencer is far less likely to damage a firm's image by saying or doing something that is considered antithetical to its brand.

Further, digital models do not have to be flown around the world to take part in photoshoots, nor do they need to take a break every few hours. One UK firm, Irmaz, promises to provide brands with "imagined reality" models that are significantly cheaper than hiring a human alternative. What's more, instead of having to search for somebody with a particular look, services like these allow businesses to create a model that's perfect for their exact needs.

The emergence of digital modelling agencies has caused some real-life models to wonder if their careers are being threatened

The emergence of digital modelling agencies has caused some real-life models to wonder if their careers are being threatened by CGI rivals. During this year's New York Fashion Week, model Gisele Alicea told Reuters that she did not think digital models would replace real people, but added: "The world changes all the time... I don't want to lose my job."

The likelihood of CGI models being used in place of the real thing, however, seems unlikely. First, the technical skill required to create a realistic digital model means that it's probably still more economical for smaller brands to employ real-life models. Creating virtual versions of items of clothing may be more difficult still. For many brands, it will remain easier to simply pay for a professional model and photographer.

It is more likely that digital models will become another tool for fashion companies to use in their marketing efforts - working alongside real-life models, rather than replacing them. Digital models work well for advertisements and online content, but they cannot walk down a runway - not yet, anyway.

"Both real and 3D models have their strengths and weaknesses, and I believe they can both inhabit the fashion space," Wilson said. "However, 3D models allow brands to make real investments into their narrative. This is a way for them to take time to develop the story behind their character, without the fear of them moving on to better contracts the following season."

In addition, personality counts for a lot in the fashion world. The reason supermodels become globally known is not only for the clothes they wear: it is also related to who they are as people. This connection is difficult to fake, no matter how hard the creators of digital models try. Lil Miquela may have amassed a sizeable fanbase, but it still pales in comparison to the biggest stars in the modelling world: both Heidi Klum and Naomi Campbell have more than three times as many Instagram followers.

This is problematic. Instead of hiring a black model, the photographer created one. Is it that hard to pay black women? Also shows how much dark skin is still being exoticised by the media.
https://t.co/tfmcUzAdzZ
- Good Morning Africa (@MozaFrique) February 28, 2018

New faces
The fashion industry is often maligned for its lack of diversity. In fact, the Fashion Spot recently revealed that only 34.5 percent of the models used in fall 2018 fashion advertisements weren't white. It's perhaps unsurprising, then, that Wilson initially received a lot of praise for creating beautiful images of a dark-skinned woman. But not all of the comments he received were positive.

Criticism centred on whether it was right that a white photographer was profiting from a dark-skinned model without having to pay a black woman. One Twitter user claimed that Shudu's popularity shows how dark skin continues to be "exoticised by the media". Noël Duan, a writer who frequently specialises in issues relating to culture and lifestyle, accused Wilson of creating "an idealised (and fake) black woman... rather than devoting time and resources to cast and shoot real dark-skinned models and promote their beauty and careers".

Similar complaints were levelled at Balmain, which also employed a virtual Asian model alongside Shudu. The slogan accompanying that particular campaign stressed that "anyone and everyone is always welcome to join the Balmain Army", but the company's words would no doubt have been taken more seriously if they had used real models instead of digital ones.

If using digital models makes it seem as though a company's attitude towards diversity is little more than a marketing gimmick, then it should prepare for a backlash

"I don't necessarily see digital models as improving representation in fashion, but just improving representation in general," Wilson explained. "Art and media need to be more diverse across the board, not just models and photography. People want to see uplifting imagery, where they can see representations of themselves that are presented beautifully, and that's what I can offer."

If implemented sensitively, digital models could prove inspirational for underrepresented voices. Brands can create entirely new characters that emotionally connect with their customers. But if using digital models makes it seem as though a company's attitude towards diversity is little more than a marketing gimmick, then it should prepare for a backlash. It will be a difficult balancing act to get right.

Keeping it real
The fashion industry already faces frequent criticism for perpetuating unrealistic beauty standards. Digital supermodels, with their flawless skin and eerily symmetrical faces, are unlikely to make things any better. "There is no world in which this is good for women's health," Renee Engeln, a professor at Northwestern University, recently told CNN. "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."

There is also a question of transparency that must be answered. When celebrities endorse a product or company, there are certain consumer standards that must be adhered to. How these apply to social media influencers that have been pieced together by a group of software developers at a creative agency is unclear. In an interview conducted by the Financial Times back in April, the only question Lil Miquela refused to answer related to sponsored online content.

Virtual fashion influencers that don't exist outside of their social media channels are unlikely to be for everyone. It can all feel a bit soulless - which, considering the standards of authenticity set by the fashion industry, is actually quite impressive. The real-life stories of how the likes of Kate Moss and Gisele Bündchen were discovered are always likely to prove more engaging than those created on a computer screen. Still, these are early days for the technology.

"I think as fashion moves away from print advertising and more into digital and creating engaging events, this will only fuel new, exciting content," Wilson said. "It's hard for me to guess what may be in store because there are so many incredible tech companies working in this space that have incredible potential. Programs that allow you to speak any language, artificially intelligent 3D models, holograms on the runway - these are all in the here and now."

As Wilson said, virtual supermodels are only likely to be the beginning of a digital overhaul of the fashion world. The likes of Shudu and Lil Miquela might not replace human models completely, but they may herald significant changes for the fashion industry and how customers interact with their favourite brands.

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Digital models pose new diversity questions to the fashion industry

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At first glance, there appeared to be nothing unusual about the three supermodels chosen to launch Balmain's fashion campaign in September. The high cheekbones, flawless complexions and piercing stares could grace any glossy magazine or catwalk runway. They were not like other models, though: they had been entirely conjured up by computer software.

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Questions about interviewing model agents

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Questions about interviewing model agents

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Questions about interviewing model agents

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Records of interviews with model agents--Body London

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Records of interviews with model agents--Body London

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1）two famous digital models and their cooperation with brands 2）the first company 3d scanned real models 3）the advantages of using digital model are summarized

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Visual Presentation of Digital Model- Lufei

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Visual Presentation of Digital Model- Lufei