Who's in charge here?

I can not count the number of mornings I wake up, look at my pre-selected outfit (a learned habit from childhood to save time and minimize fuss in the 3 children household), and sigh heavily--dissatisfied with my option and ability to do it justice/it do me justice. I am bloated, shy, feeling more adventurous, or just plain not into it anymore. This endless cycle makes me wonder: what really decides what I wear?
Briefly, let's muse on the subject of organic thought, works, and actions--do they truly exist? The idea is nothing anyone does or says is truly original, everything that can be done has been done or thought. A less severe option would be to muse that originality can exist, however all this is dependent on our influences/environments. Meaning, we are not as original as we think, every thought/work has a history and we are knowingly or unknowingly inspired by others before us. While we might actually be able to do something new, a line of similar actions before us might be drawn to show how we followed in others' footsteps.
Tangent your thoughts from this subject and think about what those inspirations might be: images, culture, family, weather, art, etc. Everything around us acts as stimuli. And what do most of these things have in common--color.
Ah, finally the point of this post: my love affair with color. In high school I did an Advanced Placement Art portfolio on color. Color blindness runs in my family. I read every report on color I come across. I really enjoy this color quiz that gives a very accurate read of your personality/mood.
I often enjoy playing with color in my outfits and being a rather over-analytical person have noticed how people's behavior towards me changes with the colors I am wearing. For example on (rare) days when I wear pink I am approached by more people (especially males); which makes sense since pink is the color of romance and often seen as a tranquilizing factor. In sports sometimes teams paint the opponent's locker rooms pink in an attempt cause their opponents to lose power.
So, when I struggle to moodily dress what is causing my stress? Is it that painful egg shell paint in the dorm room? Or a restless night and giant pimple? Or is it something more complex, less complex, or just entirely different? (Darn you Newton for leading the discussion on the optical spectrum that led to all this mess!)

Makes me want a color-changing mood ring to make life (appear) simpler.