The Devil’s Panties
I’ve been reading Jennie Breeden’s The Devil’s Panties for about three years now. The comic is semi-autobiographical and updated on a daily basis, including filler art on Sundays.
Over the course of the comic, which started about seven years ago, Jennie’s art has cleaned up a bit and grown much more elaborate. I think part of that is also part of what has made my appreciation for the comic dwindle in these last few months.
Early on Jennie’s life was filled with art student/ comic geek stuff. She worked on class projects and fended off strange comic shop patrons. Later on she worked at a games manufacturer and was accosted by her boyfriend for product samples. The problem is that, like all autobiographical comics, once your life runs out of interesting things you’re just treading water. And most people’s lives simply aren’t that interesting, unless you’re R. Crumb and/or completely batshit insane.
As Jennie’s life has become more focused on the comic her art has grown more complicated, and I doubt if she’s still roughing on notebook paper and fixing everything else digitally at this point. Unfortunately, her spelling hasn’t improved, and she has quite the rant about her spelling issues on her page, that’s worth a look just for it’s absurdity. But as her art improves due to an increased concentration on the comic the less time there is for all of the peculiarity to happen to her in daily life that presented us with such entertaining comics just a few short months ago. These days all of her comics seem to be about kilts and conventions. Granted, conventions can be a hoot, but not all of the time.
I hate to apply a tag line from Cerebus here, but it seems appropriate; “I like the older, funnier ones.” And that’s really the case at this point.
