As I was growing up, I have seen it repeated countless time when my mother will lay out the clothes for my father to wear and he will just wear whatever that my mother had laid there. I was then trained by her to NOT be like that as I was taught how to wash my own clothes and how to iron those clothes. All this started when I became a boarding school student. Being the last boy in the family with my mother losing hope of finally having a daughter, I was the one that she trained to be at least not a burden to my would be wife, then.
Alas, it was not meant to be. I turned into any testerone filled man who couldn't resist football, ladies and all those bad influences that men had to contend with while living in this world. I turned to the dark side. Even the skill of such basic things such as how to put clothes into the washing machine or hanging them out to dry was lost in the pampering I receive as the man of the house. Only the saving grace of seeing her being tired after cooking made me sign a contract to wash the dishes after.
Even the handkerchief is her choice of colour
As for clothes, I only know my wardrobe for the week when I opened my closet. Sometimes I only knew of some 'lost' shirts being sent off to orphanage or some poor cousin when I couldn't seem to find them and asked her. Sometimes, she just let those shirt she thinks are due for such treatment hangs when the buttons came loose and I asked her to sew it back.
In short, I may buy my own shirt (still!) but I don't control what I wear anymore.