THEY do look contrived, those photographs of Nicola Sturgeon on the crumpled green sofa in Bute House, working on the "final draft” of her letter requesting a second independence referendum, as if posing for an advert for DFS or some other furniture retailer. But why would a picture released to the media by a political figure be anything other than posed? What do we expect? A photograph of a bunch of policy wonks toiling over a laptop?

Nicola Sturgeon is arguably is one of the political leaders who seems to have best managed to convey some authentic sense of herself. But only a naïve person would imagine that what we see is not part of the wider, collaborative creation that is Nicola Sturgeon, SNP leader, First Minister, and independence figurehead.

Last week was dominated by photographs of the First Minister and Prime Minister, sometimes writing letters, sometimes on chairs and, finally, in Sturgeon’s case, on that sofa. These women have been examined by the public and the media, as if something in the way they project themselves might reveal some truth about these uncertain times.

The week began with “Never mind the Brexit, who won Legs-it!” the Daily Mail's unforgettably sexist front page featuring both May and Sturgeon, both of whom had legs and were seated. Sarah Vine’s excruciating article inside the paper compared the two leaders' body language, saying: “There is no doubt that both women consider their pins to be the finest weapon in their physical arsenal.” The same day also delivered that momentous image of May, seated at her desk, pen in hand, signing off the letter to Donald Tusk invoking Article 50. Then, finally, on Thursday, we were delivered Sturgeon, on her sofa, feet tucked up underneath her, signing the letter demanding an independence referendum.

Each of those photographs set Twitter afire. Immediately following Sturgeon’s Bute House shoot, tweeters clamoured to say how hideous the sofa was, attack the décor, question the authenticity of her buttoned-up suit jacket, and quip about the etiquette of putting one’s feet on the cushions before pronouncing it all to be “fake”.

But the stand-out tweet was made by Scottish Conservative leader Ruth Davidson, who observed the likeness of the shot to the famous photographs of Margaret Thatcher, shoes off, and working on the sofa in Downing Street. “Well, you know what they say about imitation and flattery,” quipped Davidson.

Quickly, however, the tables were turned on Davidson, as tweeters delivered a whole series of photographic posts of her in poses mirroring similar photographs of Nigel Farage, Vladimir Putin and Adolf Hitler.

I don’t believe for one millisecond that the Sturgeon sofa photograph is a deliberate channelling of Margaret Thatcher. Whoever took the shot wouldn't have wanted that. But it’s not difficult also to see how it happened. It’s inevitable that Nicola Sturgeon, a woman, living in a world with substantially the same kind of soft furnishings and clothes as were there for Margaret Thatcher, would at some point adopt a pose that would remind us of the Iron Lady, and that we with our limited library of images of women in power would see it through that prism.

It’s often thus. Since we’re far less used to images of women in power than men, it seems like everything a female leader does – whether it's May or Sturgeon – harks back to Thatcher. A man sits on a chair and he’s just sitting on a chair like men do; a woman of power sits on a sofa and she’s sitting on a sofa like Thatcher. May’s first few weeks as Prime Minister were blighted with constant comparisons to the only previous woman who had occupied that position.

Of course, the Sturgeon photograph is contrived. Of course it’s trying to say something – to me it looks to be about toning down the confrontational and aggressive feel of the act of sending that letter. At worst it’s passive-aggressive, overly casual or even too playful. At best it says that Sturgeon is presenting her demand for a referendum without too much swagger.

Some may say that Sturgeon’s photo appears fake because it colludes with a simplifying of politics into human dramatic stories, or because they don’t think she really would adopt that particular pose, unprompted. But Sturgeon is one of the high-level politicians in the UK with whom the words "authentic" and "accessible" are most strongly associated. One of the things that marks her out is the ability to do something contrived while also seeming authentic. After all, politics is always a kind of performance, and, from her shoe-free gym shoot during the 2015 election campaign to the legendary "Sturgeon selfie" she has given so many times, the First Minister is a long-time master at the art of barefoot politics.