“Does anyone still wear a hat?” Stephen Sondheim wrote within the music “The Ladies Who Lunch.”
They actually do on the Central Park Conservancy’s annual Frederick Law Olmsted luncheon, higher often called the “hat lunch,” now in its fortieth 12 months. At 11 a.m. on Wednesday, a trembling of well-heeled warblers gathered in gloomy climate on the Conservancy Garden at Fifth Avenue and a hundred and fifth Street, united by the pomp of their crests.
They cooed and cluttered as shutterbugs captured hats of each type and distinction: hats adorned with flowers, feathered fascinators, flapper, boaters, berets, bows and not-so-Mad-Hatter toppers. There was even a cowboy hat.
“It was made in Paris for the Prix de Diane races,” Jamee Gregory, the extremely social creator, mentioned of her solar hat with poppies and a big, asymmetrical brim.
Not all of the hats had been only for present. Jennifer Suh Whitfield wore a towering hat by Esenshel that reminded her of a Korean Gat — “a hemp hat worn by men,” she mentioned. “Coming to events like this, as an Asian American, I’ve often felt that there’s a little bit of role play in wearing these hats.”
Andrea Hagan, an investor, wore a pink baseball cap with a Planned Parenthood emblem. “I’m here to gather with like-minded women at my table, because it’s such a somber day,” she mentioned, referring to the leaked Supreme Court draft resolution that may overturn Roe v. Wade if finalized.
At midday as trumpets performed, the 1,300 company — together with Lauren Santo Domingo, the actress Susan Lucci and former New York City mayor Michael R. Bloomberg — filed into a large tent the place cocktails, rosé and chilled hen breast salads awaited them.
“Events like this are important for the city,” Mr. Bloomberg mentioned. “This is a handful of people who put in a lot of money every year to keep Central Park going.”
At Table 99, the style plate Di Mondo — whose boyfriend, Eric Javits, is a well known milliner — introduced alongside his pet Ruby, a white rabbit. Gillian Miniter, a board member of the conservancy, chatted with the designer Lela Rose about her expertise on the Met Gala. “People didn’t look ridiculous,” Ms. Miniter mentioned. “They were not just trying to outdo each other. It was normal. But nice normal.”
Midway by lunch, Yesim Philip, one other board member and the celebration’s de facto host, took the stage and introduced that the occasion had raised $3.9 million.
This was music to the ears of Alexandra Lebenthal, an investor who wore a sublime black fascinator with peonies, made by an Etsy store. “I grew up in New York in the ’70s, in the city crisis when Central Park was a scary place,” she mentioned. “When I think about the fact that all these women dress up and buy a ticket, they are a part of ensuring that the legacy of Central Park is in the past.”
At 1:30, simply as issues had been winding down, the solar broke by. Guests made their option to the S.U.V.s ready for them alongside Fifth Avenue, many stopping to reward Ms. Philip, who stood close to the exit.
Among them was Betsy Pitts, a philanthropist, who wore a fascinator with orchids so finely made, it was inconceivable to inform they weren’t actual. Leaning towards Ms. Philip, she gestured adamantly along with her arms. “The chartreuse napkins,” she mentioned. “Gorgeous.”