Some combination of Vincent's demeanor and his sheer size probably speaks right to whatever pieces of Phalanx still carry the memories of children, because the pile of ghosts calm down just long enough to be wrangled through shirt sleeves.

They're fussy but quiet while the large man pulls and loosens a sleeve off of their arm, they finally unfold the thing, and then finally go flailing and flapping into the sleeve the right way.

With one half of the shirt figured out, the rest won't be so difficult, either.