Some say shamate (杀马特) is the most hated subculture in China, and they certainly look the part—in what looks like China’s attempt at a fusion of goth and post-punk writ large—they have spiked, inflated hair dyed bright, along with smoky eyes, pierced lips, and seemingly strange clothes, not to mention their constant efforts to contort their faces and twist their limbs in overly dramatic photos. The name shamate is a transliteration of the English world “smart”, because of their “smart” appearance—magnificent irony no doubt. The source of their inspiration seems to be Japanese rockers who entertain audiences with both their music and outrageous sense of style. Producing no music of their own, the closest thing shamate ever get to such rock-fiefdom is taking a never-ending series of incorrigibly naïf “glamorous” photos of themselves.

Shopping malls, CBDs, and office buildings are hardly the territory of shamate. To find one, you will have to venture further to the edge of the city, to the suburbs, or even the exurbs. Under their heavy makeup which somehow never quite works and exaggerated hairdos, shamates are mostly young rural-born men and women. They are either students or just-setting-out factory workers, security guards, delivery men, and hair salon assistants. Usually in their late teens or early 20s, the shamate’s education is limited and prospects uncertain.

Their parents—first generation migrant workers—had a slovenly appearance and tough working conditions. Their sole focus was to survive in the urban jungle. In comparison, the shamate try to live in a spiritual world, in which they can transform into the center of attention—a group of dazzling, cooler-than-thou misfits, desperately carving out meaning in a world where it is otherwise all too lacking.

Twenty-six year old Sichuan hairdresser Zhou Dengxi certainly knows the look, asking a journalist from Time-Weekly: “Is it an elegant style?” Being the creator of many such hairstyles and once a bearer himself, Zhou speaks from experience: “Kids think the stuff is fresh. They are curious about it. They want people to turn their heads.”

In the end, if tuhao and dama represent China’s new rich, i.e. those atop of the social pyramid, then the shamate certainly live at the bottom. But this is nothing new. The most exotic and colorful of subcultures, from the punks, to the Goths, to the skinheads, have often been born out of working class oppression, and why should the shamate be any different? But with internet culture today, both the rich and poor get an equal chance to be ridiculed online. A video poking fun of shamate was posted on Youku last September, named “Shamate meets Wash-cut-blow dry”. It features clips of Korean pop stars with big hair dancing to the original lyrics describing the shamate lifestyle: “Baby, your mom thinks I am rude, I got my hair styled… so she wouldn’t break us apart…baby, your father thinks I am useless, I learned wash-cut-blow dry…so he wouldn’t break us apart.” The caricature went viral online and received 2.6 million hits.

Another source of mockery is Weibo satire. Famous Weibo blogger “Shamate Longshao” proclaimed himself to be a shamate with qualities based on the small city of Zhumadian in Henan Province. His posts are mostly self-admiring, such as: “I think god is fair. He gave me a handsome face, and at the same time, let me bare the jealousy and slander of the world outside. I don’t know who god is, but I do know what I am—a different kind of firework,” accompanied, of course, by a not so handsome, half-naked picture of a country boy with funny hairdo. The blogger also collects cheesy online images of shamate and reposts them as part of his own life, gaining over 18,000 followers.

As a matter of fact, anyone proclaiming themselves to be a shamate publicly online is very likely a case of satire, because everywhere they go, mockery and contempt follow. In an online Tencent survey, 21,000 respondents answered “yes” to the question “Do you consider shamate culture vulgar?”, an overwhelming 73 percent of all replies. It is fair to say that various online representations helped to build the shamate image and shaped the understanding of it. Even though taste can hardly serve as the marker of “class” in today’s Chinese society, in this case, it’s the particular taste of shamate, or lack of it, that defines them.

The harsh criticism and mockery didn’t stop shamate from themselves spreading online in the form of underground QQ groups. These organized groups are very selective and wary of outsiders. In order to join a “family” group, one has to meet certain standards and join a “verified group” first.

A shamate “family” usually consists of hundreds to thousands of members, both men and women. Besides various head shots in shamate style, many members have titles such as CEO, Founder and Technical Director. Many families have their own regulations and organizational structure. Posting their latest styles on QQ zone, chatting, and holding offline get-togethers are their daily activities. Shamates have their own slang too. They refer to themselves as bensha (本杀, the shamate that is myself). A comment theme in any conversation is to ask for their photos to be “liked” (求赞) by others. And like any scenarios in a virtual second life, they start to look for simulated relationships: “This female shamate doesn’t have a husband, requesting one!” or “This shamate is requesting a wife!” The few articles they post have titles like “Long live the shamate family”, “More glory for the family in the New Year”, or management recruitment notices. Sons and daughters of marginalized interior migrants with little hope for the future, it is no wonder the shamate seek to create their own meaning and identity in a society that, arguably, offers them little help.

However subcultures are not only born from the disenfranchised, and in contrast to the seemingly superficial shamate are the xiaoqingxin (小清新, young, pure and fresh), a style represented by a group of urban youth from middle-class families. They are obsessed with finding and enjoying the artistic side of life. The result of a higher social status and reasonable education, the xiaoqingxin have a taste that’s largely approved and praised by many. Their life is a mix of LOMO photography, traveling, faux-exotic coffee, and novels by Haruki Murakami. At the same time, it is also a life that, no doubt, the shamate will never have the resources to enjoy.

According to the Nation Bureau of Statistics, in 2012, more than 26,000 migrant workers left their hometown to work in urban areas. In a survey, about half of the young workers expressed their wish to eventually reside in the city. In China’s relentless development—distinctions like those between shamate and xiaoqingxin—are becoming increasingly visible. Showing no sign of reconciliation, even with their big hair and outrageous style, shamate might just be one of the most invisible and unheard groups on the Chinese cultural landscape.