I don't have very many hang-ups with being small-chested. My breasts never get in the way during any sort of athletic activity; my shirt rarely comes untucked in the front; and I never ever have problems with the four-boob horror that comes from wearing an ill-fitting bra. In fact, I have yet to find a bra that's too small for me.

So I'm generally happy with my breasts. I do, however, have issues with my nips. They make up for their small stature with unbridled exuberance, and given the opportunity to roam free they would wear their party hats every moment of every day.

Such has been the case all my life, but it hasn't posed a problem until recently, when my happy headlights collided with fashion. 1999 has been a great year for small tits, but I'm the only geek still wearing bras with her tight tanktops. I have done the free-falling bit, but I always feel like a desperate, flat-chested bimbo begging for someone to stare at her chest. And of course people stare-hell, I would too. I'm telling you, they are undeniably perky. So during the blistering Texas summers, instead of relaxing in a state of unfettered comfort, I spend the entire evening wiping sweat from my forehead and ever so casually asking, "Is anyone else cold in here?"

All Personal Breast photos by Robyn Eden.