Brigitte, a German fashion and lifestyle magazine, is looking at abandoning the "no models" policy it adopted nearly three years ago. The magazine had announced in 2009 that editors were tired of "fattening up" skinny models on Photoshop and would subsequently photograph only "real women" for their pages. This week's about-turn is said to have come after magazine staff struggled to find normal women who could do the job well, on the days it needed to be done (most readers had to book time off their real jobs to attend the Brigitte shoots), and because circulation hasn't increased at all since the initiative began.

This back-pedal is in no way surprising to me. And while I can identify the magazine's ostensibly admirable intention (in addition to creating some excellent PR), it was a wholly misguided one – not to mention rather patronising towards those who model professionally. As someone who has worked with these women for 15 years, I know models bring to the table a great deal more than a pretty face and rake-thin body.

The average jobbing model is self-employed and earns something in the region of £40k – a good salary but hardly the Gisele numbers most people seem to imagine (Brigitte magazine claim they were paying their "real models", mainly readers, the same going rate). And for this a professional model spends 3-4 days a week meeting up to 30 photographers, editors and casting agents, showing her portfolio and being criticised and picked apart. "Too old", "skin's bad", "hair's all wrong": just some of the feedback a model might hear in an average day. If one client actually likes what she or he sees, then the model might get booked for a photoshoot. While she is hardly being sent down a mine to dig with her bare hands, she will spend around eight hours on her feet being largely ignored by the assembled crew, except when being ordered to pull poses (fashion is always a season ahead so this could easily be while wearing nothing but a bikini in a December blizzard) or undressing in front of assembled strangers.

During this time, she will be expected to know what makes a great picture, where her best angles are, how lighting works on the face and understand completely the mood the photos aim to create – any delay can cost thousands in studio and equipment hire and crew overtime and can often result in inferior photos. The job, while not without its great perks, involves a talent for acting, extreme patience and the hide of a rhino when it comes to criticism. Consequently, it is entirely possible to be a breathtakingly beautiful-looking woman and a very bad model.

It's unclear why the editors of Brigitte chose to use amateur models rather than "plus-sized" professional models (still a relatively slim size 14, but more representative of the average woman's size than a size six, and presumably in no need of the pumped-up decolletage Brigitte adopted as standard). Because surely the real point here is whether professional models should be more diverse, so magazines don't have to resort to those without experience in order to better reflect their readership. This seems to be a straightforward question with a rather obvious answer that few consumers would disagree with.

Except that the publishing industry consistently sees reader focus groups choose thin models over larger women in both editorial and advertising. Attempts at using larger women have been as unsuccessful here as in Germany. And yet criticising thin women has become an easy, crowd-pleasing option in recent years (politicians cynically wheel out the anti-model stance on quiet days, often using the term "real women", an expression so offensive it undermines its intended meaning).

Clearly, if magazines don't show any women over size eight it's very wrong and needs to be addressed. But we as consumers need to decide where we really stand and vote with our wallets — not continue to say we want one thing while consistently preferring another.