[Jaskier stares at him, putting his hands on his hips.] I don't know what those are, but it sounds like your friend has poor taste. [Goatees are very handsome, thank you! On the right man. You have to have a chin, for one, which his... new friend certainly has.

Gods, this man gets sadder by the moment, and this is on top of Jaskier feeling rather miserable for himself. Perhaps more coin is due. If he's going to adopt every sad sack of shit that he comes across, he may as well add one more on top of it. (At least Hector and Rinwell were never digging into garbage. Look, even Geralt's never been that sad.)

At least, if he must look grubby and poor, he can have a nice hat.]

Nearly. Here. [He offers him a few more coins. His purse is lighter, but it's enough motivation to go back to the thing he's... well. Meant to do.] Get a nice, flashy one. It will help people overlook... [He gestures to all of him with fingers spread, hand moving in a circle through the air.] In return, may you now tell everyone you know of the brilliant Jaskier's benevolence, charity, and, most importantly, excellent advice in fashion. And, please. Never wear tan again.