When I played little league basketball, I was scrawny and slow. I excelled in several sports and basketball was not one of them. Even though I was a mediocre player, in my head I was convinced I was Kareem Adbul Jabbar. The reason is that Jabbar mastered the one shot that I figured if I could master, I would be able to compete with the other girls who were much bigger and faster.
I spent weekends, weeknights, early mornings practicing my version of the skyhook. The difference between myself and Jabbar is that Jabbar mastered the skyhook as a center - in my 10 year old head I was going to master the skyhook as a point guard.
The first time I threw up a skyhook in a game (from the 3 point line), I felt venomous steam rising from my mother's head as she watched with pure disdain (my parents do not tolerate anything that resembles "showing off").
It was a long ride home that night.
I finally convinced them it was out of necessity and not ego. They acquiesced and off I went chucking skyhooks from center court. It became quite a spectacle - partly because I could actually make them, and partly because my shorts would drop every time I did it (I would learn to use the other hand to hold them up).
I heard it all - "you can't do that", "who do you think you are?", "that's not real basketball", "play like you are suppose to play". Some people loved it, others hated it - but it didn't matter because it was never about them.
I still practice the shot at my local track/basketball court.
My point: individuality is always in style - even when people don't vibe with it (especially when people don't vibe with it).