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I still remember the first time I tried on Google Glass. I was 12, and a friend of my parents had just gotten one—I was completely mesmerized. It felt like a glimpse of the future.
More than a decade later, that future never arrived. Instead, we’re surrounded by a graveyard of clever wearables that never quite stuck. So what’s actually missing?
Today, a new generation of AI-enabled wearables is emerging with devices that promise to embed intelligence directly into the objects we carry and wear every day.
And yet, most of what we’re seeing still feels like déjà vu from the early smartwatch era: a mic, a board, and a vague promise of productivity. The focus is on what the device does, not how it lives in the world.
Apple’s clean, brushed-aluminum aesthetic dominates tech for a reason. And yes, it even works in wearables. The Apple Watch proved that minimalism can cross over when it’s paired with personal expression. It wasn’t just a mini-iPhone on your wrist; it came with metal, leather, and fabric straps, Hermès collaborations, and countless ways to signal identity. In other words, it worked because it became part of people’s personal style, not in spite of it.
The moment you ask someone to wear something, the rules change. It stops being a tool and becomes a reflection. You’re not just shipping a product, you’re asking someone to let the world see them differently.
The winning AI wearable solves two problems simultaneously:
Most devices today are designed for tech reviewers and hackathons, not actual people. They’re clunky, obvious, and force users to justify their presence. Adoption dies the moment someone has to explain a device to everyone around them.
If we look at the Oura Ring, it doesn’t just track sleep; it fits into people’s jewelry stacks. It passes the real test: Would you still wear it if it ran out of battery? Most gadgets fail that test. Cultural objects don’t.
Apple’s September event will unveil the iPhone 17, Watch Series 11, and Watch Ultra 3. Early reporting suggests new AI-driven health features. But as powerful as these may be, the form remains rugged, utilitarian, and unmistakably “tech.” That opens space for new entrants to redefine the category—not as gadgets, but as personal objects of meaning.
At the same time, Gen Z is leading a wave of hyper-personal style, curating every detail of their aesthetic to signal identity. Fashion-tech in 2025 is becoming more human and more automated, blending physical expression with digital layers. If wearables are going to matter, they must live at this intersection of culture and intelligence.
Marshall McLuhan once wrote that the media and tools are extensions of ourselves. Glasses extend our vision. Clothing extends our skin. Cars extend our legs. In that sense, a truly personal AI wearable extends memory, attention, and presence. Invisible AI isn’t about stealth, it’s about blending into life seamlessly. That’s not an afterthought; that’s the goal.
AI wearables could be the most personal consumer tech ever. Devices that know your context, understand preferences, and anticipate needs in real time.
Most of today’s devices miss that opportunity. They’re function-first, culture-last. They have to exist where people already express themselves: in clothing, jewellery, glasses, and watches... objects that have meaning before they have circuitry.
For those of us building in this space, the goal isn’t just better features or faster chips. We’re being asked to design something that people are willing to wear, which means it has to reflect who they are, not just what the tech can do.
That’s the real test for an AI wearable: would someone still wear it even if it ran out of battery?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elena Wagenmans is cofounder and CEO of Tai, where she leads hardware design and engineering. She is a product design and mechanical engineer with experience shipping production-grade consumer hardware at Apple.