Glacius will be happy to notice that his own embarrassing struggles have at least fulfilled some purpose... when he's not so busy attempting to overcome them, that is. This time he's being much more careful... when Carlisle helps him work his arm into the first sleeve he does so bit bit by bit, instead of attempting to pull it on all at once. He works his elbow gently until he's finally worked the two short spikes that jut from it through the cut that's been made there, and the rest of his arm slides into the sleeve fairly naturally from there. Working it down over the various spikes that protrude from his bicep, deltoid, and shoulder is a little bit more difficult, and their many points do snag in the fabric here and there, resulting in a few small tears... but ultimately the damage to the shirt is minimal by the time they've managed to get it in place across his broad shoulders.

The alien puffs up again, feeling a moment of accomplishment for completing this task... but the movement makes the fabric pull against his icy skin, and it sparks a damnable awareness that he is, in fact, wearing a foreign article of clothing. Not only is it not very comfortable being constrained on cloth, but the patterns and colors are far too garish for his tastes. He frowns again, looking up to Carlisle as the embarrassment settles back into place over his features.

"... I look... ridiculous." Which was the point, he realizes, to distract Carlisle from his own get-up... it's just such a vast departure from how dignified he prefers to present himself as!