The story opens with him in the bedroom, trying on ties.
No, not the bedroom, in the guest room in front of the full length mirror. He stood wearing underpants and shirt, putting on and taking off ties. The blue one was OK, but he didn’t like all the silly squiggles. Not squiggles exactly, more like dots, large dots, no, small dots. Anyway, he would probably settle for the green and yellow one. The writer wasn’t sure at this stage. He’d go back to it later. Meanwhile, the man picked up the jeans. These wouldn’t do. More indecision, then slacks were selected and pulled on. At least they were easy.
The shoes were going to be a problem for both the man and the writer. Do the shoes later. The socks he found were too thick, it was going to be a hot day. He looked down at the pile of clothes. It was a large pile, of course, in fact very large, and in a cardboard box… no, a plastic clothes basket. He delved in and found a pair of thin socks. The jacket was a cinch. It would be his favourite for the cold weather. But this was all going to take place in summer… Again, he’d think about it later.
The hair was a trouble-free item to describe, as the man was bald, or nearly bald. Hair colour was undecided at that stage; he felt he could safely put that on hold. The man looked out at the bright sunshine and wondered whether it would be wise to wear a hat. He was raking through the clothes when a voice called out. “It’s getting very late. Aren’t you coming to bed, dear?”
Whoever said writing short stories was easy?