My Wedding Photos Stolen By A Deepfake AI

As a full-time content creator, Kelly Stranick (@kellygracemae) understands the risks of sharing life online, including photo theft. However, she never anticipated the thief wouldn't be a real person. The Brooklyn-based influencer shares her story of discovering a deepfake AI-generated Instagram account using her wedding photos.

From Hinge Date to Husband

In March 2019, I moved to San Francisco for a tech job and my roommates convinced me to try Hinge. "This is just how people meet," they said. I reluctantly agreed, matched with Andy, and went on a date. I was 24 and not looking for a husband, but that one Hinge date in May 2019 was my last.

An Unexpected Proposal and Unique Wedding Plans

I suspected we might get engaged in 2022, perhaps in the summer. So, when Andy proposed on March 4, 2022, I was completely surprised—wearing leggings and no makeup, though thankfully my hair was done. I never dreamed much about weddings. Coming from a divorced family and having past relationship trauma, marriage wasn't a big focus. When we got engaged, we hired a full-service wedding planner, Veronica Joy Events, who is also a family friend. I gave her a Pinterest board, saying, "I want colorful flowers and disco balls. I want it to feel like a rager," and let her handle the rest.

Sharing Life and Wedding Planning Online

I started making TikToks in spring 2022, a few months after our engagement. It was just for fun, and I didn't gain a significant audience until early 2023. I began sharing more personal aspects of my life, including wedding planning. I talked about our authentic choices, like skipping a first dance and a bridal party. My content wasn't strictly wedding-focused, though.

The Best Day, Unfiltered

Approaching our wedding day, I had no expectations of it being the "best day of my life." My priority was to be calm, present, and enjoy it without stress. I spent the morning alone, avoiding a large getting-ready group, aiming for a chill vibe. Ironically, because I had no grand expectations, it truly became the best day of my life. I was able to savor every moment because I'd set those intentions. I felt like I was floating. If I could be that version of myself daily, I'd be unstoppable.

I was excited to share about the wedding afterward, offering perspectives and advice, and was surprised by the public interest. I shared vendor details and my wedding mindset. The most talked-about detail was our decision to leave the wedding for an after-party at the Brooklyn Mirage.

The Shocking Discovery: A Stolen Wedding Photo

Recently, a follower messaged me on Instagram: "Hey, I was just scrolling, and I saw this video. This is your wedding photo." The video featured a photo from my wedding, with my husband, Andy, and everything—but with my face replaced. This other influencer was discussing her wedding using my photo as an intro. My immediate thought was, What the hell? Who is this person taking my wedding photo, putting their face on it, and making content about it?

Unmasking the AI Culprit

It didn't immediately occur to me that it could be AI. People use AI for Photoshop, but I didn't realize the person in the video was AI until I posted about it. Then, messages poured in: "This is a deepfake. This is not even a real person."

A screenshot from the video in question. (Credit: @weddingtipsss)

I hadn't shared this publicly, but something similar happened about six months after our wedding. A follower alerted me that someone on RedNote (a Chinese social media app) had expertly Photoshopped their face onto my body in the same photo. So, the idea of a real person doing it again wasn't far-fetched, until people confirmed the new account was a deepfake. I'm still unsure if it's a fully AI-generated persona or if they're using someone's voice and likeness. I also recently learned the deepfake account, with over 60,000 followers, aims to sell and promote an app for disposable camera-style photos.

Reflections on AI, Content Creation, and Vulnerability

This situation sparked many thoughts. Since I'm not actually in the video, I feel less personally connected. However, I've seen cases like Arielle Lorre, a content creator and podcaster, who had her face and voice used by a company for an AI-generated paid ad where she appeared to endorse their product. If that happened to me, I'd be furious, confused, scared, and would pursue legal action.

"It preys on the vulnerability of people who aren’t able to tell the difference.”

With a completely fake, AI-generated person, I'm unsure how I feel. It seems less harmful in one way, but many people can't tell if it's real or not. It's detrimental to content creators who share online, exposing them to risks of their audio or video being manipulated to promote products they've never endorsed. I also feel uneasy knowing that my mom, and many parents and grandparents, scroll Instagram Reels and may not differentiate authentic human testimonies from AI-generated content. It preys on the vulnerability of those unable to tell the difference. We need to be more aware of the content we consume and critically assess its authenticity.

Future Considerations and Final Thoughts

This experience reinforces my decision to actively avoid sharing my future children online to protect their safety. Anyone online is at risk, whether an influencer or someone with a single video online.

Honestly, this is just a bizarre, funny story to me. The fact that it's not a real person is strange. I didn't even know AI influencers were a thing, but I suspect they'll become more common because brands don't have to pay them. Really, I just can't believe they kept Andy in the video and not me. It’s so rude.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.