Summary: Tired of his tweed, the Doctor wants a new look.
“How about checks?” the Doctor said, examining a checked jacket in colours so loud it practically screamed. Whether he was talking to himself or to the TARDIS was unclear. “No, maybe not checks, I don’t want to look like a multicoloured chessboard. Stripes then, can’t go wrong with stripes. Look at tigers, and zebras, and loophooes; they do alright being all stripy.”
He held up a striped jacket as loud as the checked one had been.
“Then again, I don’t want to blend into the background. Maybe not a pattern at all… Ah, purple!” He beamed happily. “The very thing!”