Well. That leaves them in an interesting spot. Because they haven't suggested 'because we're going on a romantic dinner date and need to look good', but this is still much more casual and open than he's ever heard Phil about them to other people. It could imply something more or could just imply, hm, boss and underling turned good friendship? She hasn't exclaimed anything along the lines of 'oh is this the handsome young gentleman you're dating', so, that hasn't come up.

Feel it out as he goes, then.

"It is generally of preference that the person I'm tailoring for likes what they've got on," Leah intones.

Clint, for his part, mostly shrugs. "Sometimes I actually like wearing clothes. But only sometimes."

She pauses and regards him with a wry look, fingertips alight at her chest. "Bless, you're a difficult one, aren't you?"

"Not the first or the last to say so, ma'am."

She jots numbers down in a little notebook, tutting. "You'll call me Leah or you'll call an ambulance, young man."

"Understood, ma'am."

She adjusts her spectacles and levels a look at Phil. "I think I can see why he's your favorite."

Clint grins in the mirror. Nothing like being a little shit to someone who can appreciate it. He will probably be less of a shit once the pins come out and he has to stay still lest he get a surprise acupuncture treatment, but that's later. "Maybe we should go for a bright purple. Do suits come with racing stripes?"

"Nevermind, I can't see it anymore."