Aside from turning to click the jacket's hanger back on the rack, Matt's body language is restrained by comparison. With little need to face what he's paying attention to, and a desire to not have anyone trip over his cane, he stays fairly still, firmly planted in one spot. There's no uncomfortable or uncertain tension in the set of his shoulders, though; this is a man who is assured of where he is regardless of the fact that he can't see any of it.

He tilts his head slightly at that, catching on the implication that the other man's shopping trip has somewhat softer aims than his own. "Truth be told, I could use more casual clothes too. The jacket's the only must-have, but I haven't changed up my wardrobe in a while."

Matt smiles slightly when Jim admits to not remembering his name, an expression meant to disarm any awkwardness over the matter. "That was me, yes." Absently he rubs his free hand against his ribs, though the broken bones have long since healed. "I'm Matthew, though my friends tend to call me Matt. Among less flattering names," he adds with a self-deprecating grin.