Charlize Theron’s J’adorable gold choker. Rosie Huntington-Whitely and any of her near-naked lingerie sets. Keira Knightley in that white biker suit.

We’re told all the time by feminists that we shouldn’t want to look like the women in the adverts.

That those beautiful models and actresses don’t depict the reality of womanhood. That long golden pins and solid athletic stomachs don’t come as standard to normal women.

But, the truth is, I am one of those women who is guilty of buying something simply because I loved how it looked on the glossy girl in the campaign.

I confess that I have on occasion gazed at the eight-foot cardboard cutout of a model hanging in a shop window and decided I wanted to be her. It is absolutely the reason I bought my silk sukura maxi from French Connection two years ago.

It was in pursuit of the same cause that I bought my oriental shoulder-studded blouse from Zara this summer, despite looking nothing like the oriental lily on which it was draped in the photo.

Tell me, ladies: am I just kidding myself? Do I only imagine that the Mango blazer currently sported by Miranda Kerr could ever look as good on me?

Well, maybe I am kidding myself, but a little part of me still appreciates the creativity I spy in fashion ads as much as the street style I see on ordinary women. Once upon a time this comparison would have been flipped the other way, with fashion commentators expressing their admiration for well-groomed women who look every bit as good as professional models. These days the democratisation of fashion means that ‘street chic’ is a fundamental feature of any fashion magazine. Bloggers’ favourites have replaced editors’ picks in the fashion pages of tabloids.

And, in many ways, I am a also product of this historical turnaround.

No longer are stylistas with a lifetime of service to iconic publications the exclusive voices of fashion. Now we have social media to inspire us. And certainly I will admit to having picked a pair of boots purely because they resembled the prime choice of a woman captured crossing the road by Pinterest.

There are many very real women who have an incredibly natural flair for fashion and who are not afraid to use this powerful new social engine to show it off.

But does that mean I have to renounce the professional platform altogether? It is, after all, the platform which employs me. And, while I refuse to be a fashion snob, I cannot quite count myself as a fashion proletarian. From a purely aesthetic point of view, whenever we see a beautiful woman (or man), dressed splendidly for whatever reason, be it in public or on paper, there is no ‘professional style’ or ‘street style’. There is simply style.

So, although I will always give due credit to the student, the secretary or the schoolteacher for arresting my gaze with their hand-me-down hats or well-chosen totes, I will also continue to browse shops purely on the recommendation of their window displays.

The way I see it, if I like what I see and I buy it, the pros are doing their jobs properly, I’m doing my bit for the economy and I get new clothes. Everybody wins.

Even if I don’t look like Keira Knightley wearing them.