In a fairly tame way I tried to look different when I was a teenager and I found it most gratifying when old ladies said rude things about me on the bus.
A favoured outfit included one of a number of pairs of vintage (i.e.old and grotty) stilettos from Oxfam, worn with fishnet or footless tights (I vaguely remember this was a winter craze as my legs feel cold as I write). On top I wore a leotard (dreadful things when you need a pee in a hurry) and a tight skirt. My parents would roll their eyes and Dad would ask if I was off to work walking the streets - their humour was not appreciated.
Um ... the folly of youth or was it the vanity of a size 10 body? The latter I fear.