In The Girls Are Dissatisfied, Hannah tears open the glossy veneer of mid-century domesticity to reveal the chaos, frustration, and underlying turbulence simmering beneath its polished surface. The image of a seemingly perfect suburban home is disrupted by a dramatic clash of female figures, frozen in an almost balletic struggle. Their movements suggest rage, rebellion, or resistance, yet they remain confined within an environment that suggests order and control.

Above them, pills rain down like confetti… bright, celebratory, and yet ominous in their implications. They serve as both a symbol of escapism and a quiet acknowledgment of how pharmaceutical intervention has long been used to pacify, suppress, or "correct" the emotional unrest of women, particularly within the rigid expectations of domestic life. This detail echoes historical and contemporary realities, where dissatisfaction (whether with gender roles, relationships, or personal agency) is often medicalized rather than confronted.

Created in the wake of profound personal grief, this work takes on additional weight as it reflects Hannah’s own dissonance with societal expectations of emotional expression. The absence of her recurring tentacle motif underscores a sense of powerlessness, as if even rebellion is confined to a preordained script, playing out in a staged setting where dissatisfaction is not just experienced but expected.

Through The Girls Are Dissatisfied, Hannah challenges the viewer to look beyond the curated images of domestic happiness and into the raw, unresolved tensions that lurk beneath. The piece asks: When does frustration become action? And what happens when dissatisfaction can no longer be medicated, ignored, or contained?