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Its like a cheap TV game show set designed by a psychotic teenage girl,” laughs Mikala Dwyer, clutching at metaphors to describe her exhibition at Newtown's Sarah Cottier Gallery. “It's bad grammar - like a really bad, long sentence with no full stops.’’A quick inventory confirms her assessment that this show, her first with a commercial gallery, approaches a kind of post-feminist jumble sale: monochrome paintings rendered in nail polish, scattered randomly around the space, tacky sequin and satin fabrics bedecking the floor and walls, vacuum cleaners and squash rackets lovingly wrapped in pantyhose, or a tag team of stockings strung across the space to provide geometric cues; lipsticks, cosmetics, body bags, comic books, coloured fluorescent lights, found knick-knacks. There are so many objects that Dwyer manages to pulverise the impulse to list them. June 14, 1994. (Photo by Hayes/Fairfax Media via Getty Images).