“Now I don’t know exactly how cold it gets here in the winter, I haven’t been here long enough for that…” Eliot surveys the variety of coats, largely to avoid outright staring at Jack. He does look quite nice in those jeans, something of a punk vibe going for him, but there’s more pressing issues to focus on.

He hefts his own coat back onto his elbow and looks for a bench to set the bags upon. “It doesn’t look like there’s a lot of big puffy down-filled numbers, though, so hopefully it won’t be too terribly bitter.” Milder than the winters up in the Hudson valley at Brakebills, he thinks. “So,” he says brightly, turning to Jack. “You really can’t go wrong with a good wool overcoat. Camel would look closer to what you have now, and be warmer and generally more expensive than plain wool, but then black goes with everything.” Eliot peers at the racks and runs his hands over the sleeves of various coats to find the softest weaves. “I suppose it depends on how much you want to spend on a coat in the first place?” He turns to look back at Jack, studying the length and color of the one he’s wearing. “It could be argued that I paid too much for mine but with my wardrobe I really only need the one piece of outerwear, anyway.” That, and it wasn’t real money in the first place.