The puzzle that is dressing

You'd think that by now I'd have this dressing myself thing figured out, but I don't, or so various women tell me.

My basic dressing process has remained unchanged for most of my life:

1) Grab this week's pants off hook where I hung them yesterday.
2) If in a particular t-shirt mood, grab that t-shirt; else grab whatever shirt first strikes me as "yeah, I could wear that today."

I modify these rules for fancy occasions or when a woman near me at dressing time tells me to do so or when I'm trying to impress someone, also usually a woman, but these two steps remain my main plan. I count on them creating acceptable outfits by sticking to pants I thought were neutrals: jeans, blue and black, khakis, and dark pants that I thought were black when I bought them but which I've learned might be any of more shades of blue and black than the male eye can see.

Alas, my plan fails often. Those neutrals? Not always neutral. Some may be too yellow, others may be blue when I thought they were just that canonical "dark, probably black" color. That t-shirt? Not the right mood, or offensive to some (amazingly, screaming skulls bug some people), or just so yesterday (I still love tie-dye).

I get enough occasional comments and critiques that I've considered a new plan:

1) Identify woman nearest to me at time of dressing.
2) Ask her to tell me what to wear.

This plan is also deeply flawed, however, because it can turn sour quickly. The biggest nightmare is when step three becomes a discussion over what to wear. I then must come up with an opinion, which I don't have because if I did I would have chosen accordingly in the first place. Plus, if I give up control in step two, the outcome may not be to wear this week's pants, which is rarely acceptable. They are, after all, this week's pants.

I guess I'll remain puzzled, keep to the plan, and take grief from time to time about what I'm wearing.