My week is usually very unsexy. I take a rickshaw to work (the quickest mode of transport to get to congested BKC), sip watered-down iced coffee, and listen to moody pop on my AirPods. But this week, I swapped my trusty Pods for the Ray-Ban Meta smart glasses.
They look like normal Ray-Ban Wayfarers, until you notice the tiny cameras embedded in the temple and the thicker-than-usual frame. I wasn’t convinced at first. I do love Wayfarers, but these are chunkier than what I’d usually wear, and they sit on your nose with the presence of something watching, not just existing. But I slip them on and head out anyway, Billie Eilish in my ears clearer than I expected. The sound doesn’t cancel out honks or construction noise, but it’s not supposed to. I can hear every ad lib.
I take a call on the way and sound better than I ever have, according to the person on the other end. Compared to the AirPods Pro, the audio is sharper, crisper, like my voice has gone through an HD filter. I feel suspiciously put together for someone in a rickshaw surrounded by traffic.
Shot on Ray-Ban Meta AI glasses
They’re a hit at the office. Everyone’s excited and wants to try them on before I even sit down. The team takes selfies in them, asks if I can record something without anyone knowing (I can’t—there’s a little LED light that starts blinking when I record—and I shouldn’t). For the rest of the day, I’m asked variations of “Can I touch them?” like I’ve brought in a particularly chic piece of AI taxidermy.
There was a time—post-Lasik, pre-self-awareness—when I wore what my partner once called “personality glasses”. I didn’t need them, but I still liked how they looked. A bit aloof, possibly literary. Eventually, I gave up the farce. It felt performative to wear glasses without a prescription, like cosplaying someone who had more interesting things to say.
But glasses are back. Bella Hadid has been wearing petite black frames—very library-chic. Kendall Jenner’s been sporting a tortoiseshell pair. Suddenly, glasses aren’t dorky or about vision at all. They’re about how you want to be seen: a little obscure. Maybe even hot.
The Ray-Ban Metas aren’t quite that kind of sexy. But they’re definitely trying to make them sexy, which is why they teamed up with Coperni for its Paris Fashion Week show earlier this year. That version had mirrored lenses and a semi-transparent black frame that showed off the internal wiring. Amelia Gray even wore a pair to the Met Gala with her custom Valentino get-up. The pair I’m wearing is more classic—black, matte, self-serious. But people still notice.
That evening, as I take my dogs for a walk, I test the ‘look and ask’ feature. You see something and say, “Hey Meta, what am I looking at?” and it answers. A little dystopian, sure, but also fun and highly addictive. I try it on my dogs—and everyone else’s. “This is a Chow Chow,” it says. Then, “The dog appears to be a Jack Russell Terrier.” I test it on trees, storefronts, strangers’ shoes. The glasses are like a little know-it-all perched on your nose, eager to prove themselves.
Later, I go to a friend’s listening party. It’s dimly lit, full of people and my friends immediately clock the glasses. “Are those the Meta ones?” someone asks. “Wait, are you recording us right now?” I’m not, but the fact that I could be makes me feel a bit paranoid. The images captured in low light aren’t so great—but again, I wasn’t expecting them to be. I take a video of my friend’s performance. Visually, it looks so-so, but the audio quality is great when I play it on my phone later.
