I felt great that day. It was April 30 and the sun was shining at last. It was my friend’s birthday party in Mayfair’s Park Lane hotel. I had a lovely new dress on and I put a tweet out: “Summer’s here!”
It was a media crowd. I talked politics with my panellist friends from the Jeremy Vine show. I didn’t look at my social media because I was busy. I later realised friends had been frantically trying to get in touch. They’d screenshotted and sent me an image of myself as a warning. “This is online,” they said. I couldn’t breathe. On Laurence Fox’s Twitter/X he’d posted an image of my genital area.
My first thought was it’s AI, a deepfake. I’ve never seen