"That's.... very encouraging." His tone suggested it was the actual opposite of that, unsurprisingly. He had seen enough already to have figured out that maybe she wasn't the best judge in costume design. He wasn't either. Clint never understood all that, anyway. The costume was a brand more than anything else, these days. He'd always seen it as a piece of flash and a bit of pomp. Distraction and well, he liked to be distracting. He'd certainly had his share of terrible wardrobe decisions over the years until finally settling on the more utilitarian look with SHIELD. There was something about the Avengers that made you occasionally go crazy and decide to start liberally decorating with a random color. Or three.
"No, you were just sticking out." Not so great at subtly in that but perhaps that wasn't what she was going for. "You might have better luck a few blocks over. That's where most of the clubs let out." He wouldn't have been surprised if she'd been on the flashy side herself. Most of their kind were - vigilantes often did it for the attention. Clint had wanted to be a hero once, though it had been a long time ago. Now? He wanted to make from here on matter somehow.
And maybe gain some praise every now and again.
"Standing isn't illegal. The mask, on the other hand.." He shrugged, giving her a meaningful look. It wasn't Clint's job to step in and regulate teen vigilantes just yet. No one had given him the order, not Cap or Stark or even Hill. He'd stick with them; it didn't mean he approved.