The San Francisco air was just right for Nina Willdorf’s “A.I. dress”—a silky green, short-sleeved Lacoste number.
“I found this thanks to Gemini!” she beamed, welcoming guests who instantly admired her outfit. She’d spotted a woman wearing it in Vienna months ago and thought it was lost forever. But a quick snap with her phone and a query to Google’s A.I. chatbot, Gemini, led to a second-hand find and a $150 purchase. “Not bad at all!” she laughed.
Her A.I.-assisted fashion choice was perfectly aligned with the evening’s theme. Nina and co-host Shoshana Berger, both former editors now thriving as marketing and communication consultants, discovered a surprising bond last spring: they shared the same “A.I. boyfriend,” Claude from Anthropic.
Despite widespread skepticism among their peers, Nina and Shoshana had embraced artificial intelligence wholeheartedly and were eager to share their enthusiasm. Their new monthly event series, though still without a catchy title (they admitted “Midlife Lady A.I. Dinners” was a bit cumbersome), was clearly a hit.
These exclusive “prompt parties” bring together women to discuss how chatbots like ChatGPT can assist them in both their professional and personal lives. The evenings feature good cheese and even Costco prosecco (despite any past recalls!), creating a relaxed atmosphere for A.I. exploration.
The main objective is mutual learning and encouraging even the most tech-hesitant women to engage with A.I. The focus of the night is practical: honing their “prompts” – the questions and instructions given to chatbots.
A table set for nine featured a whimsical menu: “appetizers” for introductions, “main course” for midlife dilemmas, and “dessert” for chocolate peanut butter cups. All attendees were over 40, ranging from A.I. enthusiasts to skeptics, connected by their friendship with Nina or Shoshana, but strangers to each other. (The author, a friend of Nina’s with a self-professed “luddite” tendency, joined as a journalist.)
The gathering’s concept was simple: a Tupperware-style party merged with emotional tech support, complete with gourmet snacks and rosé. When some dip accidentally spilled on Shoshana’s blouse, Hillary Tyree, from a venture capital firm, quickly advised, “Just scan the tag with your iPhone! It will tell you exactly how to clean it.”
Nina began with an inspiring address. “We call this our A.I. Tupperware Party, but it’s not about the containers, and it’s not truly about the tech itself. It’s about what we accomplish together using it,” she declared.
Unlike traditional Tupperware events, this gathering wasn’t about sales, but rather a deeper sharing – perhaps of their inner worlds.
“Even within our San Francisco tech hub, it’s easy to feel left behind,” Nina noted. She acknowledged the valid concerns surrounding A.I., such as job displacement, environmental impact, and the spread of misinformation. “But A.I. is here to stay. We can choose to engage with it or not,” she stated, concluding with a firm, “I love A.I.”
Shoshana prompted everyone to share their most successful chatbot interactions. Her own triumph involved uploading a business proposal to Claude, which promptly advised, “You’re not charging enough.” Following Claude’s suggestion to “double your rate,” Shoshana found her client accepted it without hesitation, sparking cheers from the table.
Tiffany Wheat, a luxury sales consultant, found herself single and weary of online dating, so she decided to write a book: a guide to dating her, a Virgo. Rather than writing it herself, she turned to “le Chat GPT,” as she playfully called it. The very next day, her “survival guide to dating Virgos” was available on Amazon for $4.98.
Rimma Boshernistan, a strategist, confided that she used A.I. to navigate personal challenges, ultimately leading to the decision to end her marriage. “My therapist had offered similar insights, but I simply wasn’t ready to hear them,” she explained. “Then A.I. gently guided me, and everything clicked.”
Dr. Ono Nseyo, an OB-GYN, confessed that she, much like the medical profession, had been slow to adopt A.I. However, since her clinic implemented an A.I. scribe, she feels more present and effective with her patients. “With this technology capturing all the details, I can truly focus on connecting with them,” she shared enthusiastically.
Hillary Tyree, who regularly incorporates A.I. into her professional life, recalled her most satisfying A.I. moment: designing a Halloween fundraiser flyer for her children’s school. While in an Uber, she instructed the A.I. image generator, Nano Banana, to “make it fun, not cheesy, appealing to kids but not childish.”
“It was absolutely perfect,” she recounted, with a chuckle, “except for one small typo. If you zoomed in, it read: ‘burchase tickets!'”
Not all attendees were as eager. Kelly Duane de la Vega, a documentary filmmaker, confessed, “I never even wanted a cellphone, and I’d prefer to resist A.I., but it feels like a losing battle.” She’d used A.I. for a mock narrator in her work, but only embraced it in her personal life when her son faced a complex landlord issue. What she expected to be a full day’s task drafting a letter with ChatGPT took only two hours. “I sent it to a lawyer friend,” she recalled, “and he asked, ‘Are you sure you’re not a lawyer?'”
These tales of A.I. success primed everyone for the next segment: “prompting practice” – mastering the art of asking chatbots the right questions. The women opened their laptops, consulted the “midlife quandary” section of their menus, and refilled their glasses.
“Take ten minutes,” Shoshana advised as a flurry of typing began. “If the results aren’t quite what you’re looking for, don’t hesitate to ‘nudge’ the A.I.,” Nina added, moving around the table to offer guidance.
“My real desire is to input my daughter’s college personal statement,” confessed Amanda Hughen, a visual artist. Nina cautioned against this: “You don’t want A.I. to rewrite it entirely. Instead, ask for feedback, like ‘What are five strengths here?’ or ‘What areas could be improved?'” Amanda, taking a different path, then asked for sources of mud and river water for a sculpture. “I’m going old school with A.I.,” she quipped.
Tiffany Wheat, the author of the A.I.-penned dating guide, continued her exploration. “I asked, ‘Why am I still single?'” she shared. “And the chatbot’s response was essentially, ‘Honey, we’ve analyzed this extensively!'”
Shoshana poured fresh mint tea before revealing her own A.I. consultation. “I asked Claude, ‘Have you seen my calendar?'” (Naturally, Claude had not.) “Then I told it, ‘My husband thinks we’re too busy.'” She sought communication strategies. Claude’s blunt but accurate reply: “Your husband is correct.”
“That just saved you a fortune in therapy!” Amanda Hughen exclaimed, laughing.
Shoshana acknowledged the potential pitfalls of over-reliance on artificial intelligence.
“We’re all aware of the headlines concerning individuals isolating themselves with A.I.,” she stated. “There’s a growing loneliness epidemic, particularly as we get older.”
This concern for connection was a major driving force behind these gatherings. (They eventually settled on a name, humorously, without consulting Claude: “Aged Intelligence.”)
“Our dining room transforms into the A.I. ‘war room’ for these nights,” Shoshana explained. “It’s a space where we can indulge in plenty of cheese and tackle our midlife challenges together.”
As the evening wound down (around 10 p.m.), laptops were closed. Nina opened a kitchen drawer, revealing a collection of Tupperware. She neatly packed away the leftover dip, sealing the container with a familiar “burp.”