Would you let AI choose your outfits?

My friend walks into the village hall, scene of my son’s third birthday party, a mixture of panic and incredulity creeping across his face. “I didn’t realise we were dressing up,” he says, taking in my outfit. I feel myself blush. I’m wearing a mint-green tulle midi dress with sheer sleeves that balloon precociously and a tiered skirt that puffs out in such a way as to give me the appearance of either a Quality Street or a three-year-old at her own birthday party. It’s not, if…