"At least with this spell, my aestheticism guides me more than vanity. After all, I'm not trying to make myself look pretty." And it's doubtful he would in the first place. Strange is nominally put together, wearing clothes that still carry traces of the 1810s in their cut and style, but his cravat is messily tied, his hair looks like he forgot to brush it, and one of his shoes is quite scuffed.

Still, if he can show off his weather magic, then he's going to. Placing his hands at his side, facing the ground, Strange starts muttering an incantation under his breath. Then he reaches up towards the sky with one hand and holds that pose for a moment. A few seconds later, a light snow starts to fall on the ground and Strange looks particularly pleased with himself.

"There we go. Now, shall I cast some reflection magic?"