Phil usually only lets Clint be self-deprecating when he's mad about something, but still, it will not kill anyone to let him joke and get away with it. "We're just pretending I'm stupid," he murmurs.

He's a little surprised at the choice given Phil had seemed interested in something darker. Could he, maybe, get away with two suits? To mix things up. Obviously. "Hey, if we're gonna go color, let's go color." Bold it is. He reaches for said purple and lays it by Phil's choice of suit. "You sure it's not gonna look too groomsman-y? Or like I'm a valet? Maybe go with a dark shirt and tie to make it stand out more, unless that's gonna be, I don't know, too busy."

"How black tie are we talking? Bow ties only, or do we have more wiggle room?"

"Uh." God, it's so much easier when he's getting his kit fitted for work; he doesn't have to do any of this finicky shit. "Wiggle room, definitely."

"Then we can work wonders. Black shirt, black tie, let the vest speak for itself as he centerpiece with the suit to frame it?" She's gone back to her notebook, scribbling and sketching. "Or we could really work the purple, match the shirt, dark tie to break it up, hm, or keep the whole outfit bright and cheery, white shirt classic, purple tie..."

He's pretty sure she's talking to herself at this point, actually. "And a handkerchief." Just to be annoying.

She flaps a hand at him without looking up. "I'll let my violence in the workplace policy go if Phillip decides to smack you."