AI Clockwork Beauty Care, ZUUM, Organic Fragrances

On a Thursday afternoon, I head to a quiet Beverly Hills office park to get a manicure from a robot. I walk through the lobby outside, past suited people working on laptops and the Goop kitchen selling kombucha and macrobiotic bowls, to a door that says “Zo Lounge.” Outside, my robot waits, stationed in the corner of an empty room, resembling an oversized Keurig coffee maker and promising the “guilt-free pleasure” of a 10-minute “mini cleanse.”

The robot is called Clockwork, and it’s part of a fleet of “miniature” robots available for rent, like vending machines or ATMs. (There are Clockworks at several airports in the United States, including JFK, and Walmart houses three in the state of Alabama.) I approach it, apprehensively, aware of the absence of other humans. A screen on the front of the Clockwork invites me to touch it. I touch it. It asks for the last four digits of my phone number, then displays my reservation and plays a short video explaining the service and reminding me that practice makes perfect—not for the machine, but for me. It’s then that I realize I forgot to read the fine print in my appointment preparation email; I was supposed to arrive with my nails already filed.

In a small compartment adjacent to the machine, I grab a complimentary file and get to work. I then select a neon pink one from a dispenser on the side of the Clockwork, following the instructions to remove the cartridge from its case and insert it into another compartment, the same way you insert a pod into the Keurig I’m increasingly certain Clockwork was modeled after. I sit down and insert my index finger into the machine, which closes around it. The screen tells me to shift to “hold the robot’s hand.” There’s a long pause as we sit as if we’re making a deal. Then the robot comes to life, lowering the pink polish onto my waiting nail bed, which it paints with precision in seconds.

Clockwork is perhaps the most literal version of an undeniably growing trend: AI-powered beauty products and procedures, including LUUM Lashes, or eyelash extensions administered by a robot whose touch is so light, according to a press release, that many customers fall asleep during the application process. “The robot’s little hands run over your lashes in the most delicate way, and every time the lash was attached, I could barely feel it,” says Matthew Newman, a hairstylist and TikTok creator who recently tried LUUM.

Unlike Clockwork, which doesn’t require a human technician to operate (but does offer virtual customer service), LUUM robots are supervised by living, breathing lash technicians. “I actually felt better about the whole experience because there was a lash technician overseeing everything,” Newman tells NYLON. “I didn’t want to just be strapped to a robot with no one around.” But compared to a traditional lash appointment (a full application typically takes about two hours), Newman estimates that LUUM still took about 50 minutes (the goal is to cut that down to 25). Similarly, Clockwork only takes 10 minutes for about $10; but when I went to my local nail salon to compare prices, I found that they can apply a coat of polish in 15 minutes for $15.

On the less literal end of the AI ​​beauty spectrum are brands like Proven Skincare, which offers personalized product recommendations curated by AI based on a three-minute questionnaire, and Biology, a functional fragrance company specializing in naturally derived, unisex scents. “I’m captivated by the transformative potential of artificial intelligence and how it will inevitably shape the future,” says Biology founder Steve Sun. “There’s something sexy and seductive about merging natural elements with AI technology.” To create Elysian, an AI-generated fragrance with notes of apricot, patchouli, bergamot, and vanilla, Sun says the team quickly combined sales data from their best-selling fragrances with key demographic information, a summer release date, and apricot essential oil, “because it felt modern and underutilized in the fragrance world.” He adds that AI also played a key role in the fragrance’s name and marketing. Interestingly, when I receive a sample kit of five Biology fragrances, all made by humans except Elysian, I find the last one to be the most classic smelling of the bunch, a mix of all the dusty pink celebrity scents.

But if AI can make lash extensions slightly faster and perfumes perfect (if stilted), what have we got to lose? Sitting alone in the silence of the Zo Lounge, I think back to the days when I would go every other week to see Safia in Hollywood, who would refresh my full set of long acrylic lashes, then decorate them with gems, stickers, and hand-painted designs. As she worked, we would talk about her art and mine, our professional triumphs and defeats, our meditation practices, our mothers. All around us, other women were having similar conversations. The process took an hour on a good day, sometimes two. But it wasn’t just about efficiency; it was about community.

The Clockwork robot finishes running, and I raise my hands to examine my manicured nails. And yet, arguably, the best part of the experience was when the door to the Zo Lounge opened and a woman approached, tentatively at first, to ask, “Does this thing really work?” She’d been eyeing it for weeks, she said, wondering if she should try it. I handed her my finished hand, and we discussed the results. The consensus: Worth a shot for the girl on the go, and a great idea for airports. She thanked me and left. And then, once again, I was alone, the only woman in the room.