During a downpour, Manhattan is full of the most slap-dash marginal umbrellas. Normally, they are the pathetic collapsible variety — Mr. Ince would be horrified!? — and one stiff breeze usually sends them sailing down Fifth Avenue, as pedestrians try to duck and sidestep them. But as your post mentioned, the handsome doormen at the St. Regis (oh, those uniforms!) yield their huge sturdy umbrellas with aplomb. I have been known to duck in one revolving doorway, and emerge from another, just to have one of those tall gents offer the protection of his umbrella.
Doormen! — One of the great joys of the City. And umbrellas.