Cliché #35: authors describe the simplest things in such a weird way

He had luscious mocha-colored hair that hung 2 cm above his rounded ears, and his orbs were the color of a tranquil river situated in a forest untouched by mankind. His currant-colored shirt was made of the finest polyester, and he had matched his exquisite shirt with a pair of presidential-blue jeans. Up close, I could see freckles dusting his cheeks and nose like how powdered sugar might be dusted on a rich chocolate lava cake that oozes the darkest chocolate you can imagine.

Just tell me he has brown hair, blue eyes, some freckles, and is dressed like a typical teenage boy for fucks sake.