WOMEN. There's a lot of them around at the moment.

It's strange, as a young woman, how inured you become to not seeing yourself reflected back when gazing at certain spheres.

I thought about this during Ghostbusters, how it felt almost revolutionary to see women as science geek, all-action protagonists, strapping on their proton packs and blasting... er...ginormous ghost pilgrims.

In politics it's the same thing. A woman was a lone beast, an unusual flash of colour among a sea of dull suits. Not now.

Women. Everywhere.

And immediately the problems start. There's uncertainty around how to deal with them. Look just back there: I've immediately gone with a visual description of politicians.

My colleague, the political reporter Tom Gordon, caused a Twitter hoo-hah when he did similar, pointing out Theresa May's red shoes as she climbed the steps of Bute House to meet with Nicola Sturgeon.

He was accused of casting a sexist slur.

Similarly, when our sister title, The National, styled Theresa May as Cruella de Vil, its editor was asked on national television to explain himself, having attracted similar accusations of sexism.

Visual descriptions of female politicians cause unease. The language we use causes unease.

I first wrote, "tripped up the steps" of Bute House. But does this undermine May? Does it suggest an unnecessarily flibbertigibbet style one would never use for a male politician? So I've changed it to "climbed".

Female politicians take a battering when it comes to their appearances. Nicola Sturgeon repeatedly had her weight commented on. Rush Limbaugh, a US talk show host, said of Hilary Clinton: “Will this country want to watch a woman get older before their eyes?”

Women in the public sphere find their clothes a hindrance. The human rights lawyer Amal Clooney was famously asked at the Armenian genocide court, "What are you wearing?"

"Ede & Ravenscroft," she smartly replied, referring to the academic robe maker.

Clinton's pant suits are commented on, Sturgeon's sartorial choices are endlessly scrutinised.

Richard Stewart, a Canadian mayor, carried out an interesting experiment having heard women in his town say that to enter politics they would have to have a make over or buy a new wardrobe. For his own amusement as well as to make a broader point, Stewart wore the same suit every day for 15 months and not a soul noticed.

Michael Gove recently wore fancy buckled shoes, with a naughty wink of silver, but these drew no attention because no one was looking.

Women like clothes, generally. They like to talk about clothes, shop for clothes, there are entire magazines dedicated to the pursuit of clothes. Women's clothes are, generally, fancier than men's. Brighter, more varied. They add literal and figurative colour to a story. They're bound to be more frequently mentioned than those which adorn men.

While it is absolutely the case that commentators and fellow politicians try to trivialise women by writing about the way they look, it is not the case that any mention of a woman’s appearance constitutes sexism. Politics is a nasty business. Steve Bell, the Guardian cartoonist, draws David Cameron with a condom for a head. There are few professions where you’d daily have to see yourself with a prophylactic face.

Eric Pickles was lampooned for his weight. Similarly in the US, New Jersey governor Chris Christie was told he would never be president as he was too fat.

Boris Johnson is famous for his wild hair. Conversely, Mitt Romney’s perfect hair was used to evidence his falseness. Justin Thoreau, the Canadian prime minister, is a renowned dreamboat, while Barack Obama rocks slick suits and dress shoes. Vladimir Putin wears stack heels, we're often told.

These are physical tropes that become the basis for political cartoons and sketches, exaggerated and played upon.

Fashion is just fashion and mentioning it is not automatically sexism.

What is sexist is when female politicians are judged by their decision to have or not have children. Or when unashamedly gendered epithets are used against them - "Wee Nippy", say. Or when newly promoted female MPs are dubbed “Cameron’s Cuties”.

It's important to recognise the distinction - otherwise we risk aiming our proton packs at the wrong targets, draining ourselves of any useful energy.