Lambert raises his brows. "You know, it's not too late to change jobs. Carly probably wouldn't mind another assistant." Except no, Strange might be able to sound like he knows what he's talking about as far as fashion goes, but he also has the attention span of a damselfly and a tendency to set things on fire besides. Lambert was only guessing by eye, but at least he got the size right. But hey, since Strange is claiming to know something about fashion...

"You're about the same size as Childermass." Give or take a few inches in dimensions, but Lambert can't for the life of him imagine the other magician caring much about things like 'a bit loose in the chest,' so that's irrelevant. "He needs a new coat."

Because Lambert had fucked up his. It's a bit of a non sequitur, that's for certain, but it was Strange who'd dropped that idle jab about Lambert needing help with a present for Childermass in the first place, and he's right. Lambert needs the help. It's just awkward to actually say it out loud, much less to admit that Strange and him really must be friends, because they share a similar talent for pissing Childermass off when they don't mean to.