"Maybe they've got something for that here, too," Lambert smirks slightly. He's pretty sure he saw a sign for some kind of aphrodisiac and other substances before Strange pulled him over to the clothes -- and a sign primly telling customers they can inquire about more "adult" outfits by request.

"Some of it looks more like stuff from Portland." Which, if he sounds wistful about? It's because he traded away his decent (if thoroughly damaged from a run-in with Strange's ice-spikes) winter jacket in Greysol, and he wishes he had it right about now. There's a rack of coats in one corner, and he begins to browse through them, occasionally pulling one out to get a better look before shaking his head.

"You should get clothes for nightrunner work," he comments, distractedly. "Maybe then you'll stop wearing out your regular ones. Armor would be better, if you can find some light enough for you." Because no offense, he can tell Strange won't wear anything that's too much work to put on in the first place or too heavy to wear for long.