I appreciate that stars like Keira Knightley are refusing to bend to Hollywood standards of beauty, I really do. I admire anyone who's comfortable in her own skin and understands that a variety of body types are beautiful. But it baffles me when I see stories like the Post's "Flat and Happy" - "sometimes bigger isn't better!" — because, while, sure, men might like the busty pin-up, I and lots of the other breast-possessing women I know would prefer a chest like Keira's. Breasts may still equate to sex appeal, but for a lot of us that's not a great thing. Breast-centric attention, after all, is not the kind most women crave.Then too, it's a reality that any such supposed sex appeal is at the expense of style. Clothes are not designed for breasts, especially for the past few seasons. And anyone with an above-average chest can attest to the ability of a bosom to turn even the most demure and elegant of ensembles into an unintentionally sexy exercise in blowsiness. Bras are a pain in the neck — literally — and less pretty in more generous sizes. Plus we live with the knowledge of the breasts' ultimate descent. Don't get me wrong, I like my figure and am a confident sort of naked person. In the right threads, there's no denying that breasts denote a certain bombshell appeal. But sometimes it seems like there's a fiction that because of those inexplicable creatures who crave implants, there's a general conspiracy against small breasts, when to many of us they just equate to chicness and ease. Flat and Happy [New York Post]