Clothes have a mind of their own

Your male clothes begin to fly off your body. Leaving you completely naked.

"Shit!" you say.

You try to leave the wardrobe, but the doors shut before you can. The clothes begin to fly of the rack and display themselves in front of you as if for you to choose one of them. They line up allowing you to touch them or pick one. Every second you wait the clothes move down the line and back onto their hangers.

You think you might as well pick one if it will let you leave the wardrobe.