Backstory: Over the brim

Many cowboys are fastidious about what goes on their head. As a three-time world champion roper, Trevor Brazile has achieved the sort of stature that means he doesn't have to buy hats. His sponsor provides them for him. Still, Mr. Brazile, of Decatur, Texas, takes pride in the quality and shape of what he wears. He prefers only 100 percent beaver fur because it makes a hat lighter and thinner, yet holds its shape. He says $1,000 is a fair price to pay for a quality lid.

Cowboy hats have long been a big-ticket item, costing a cowboy a month's wages or more when they were first introduced in the mid-1800s. Today, the most expensive hats are made from beaver pelts, and usually start at around $500. Stetson's most expensive hat, the Diamante, retails for $5,000, and is made from high-grade beaver, plus chinchilla fur.

The best-grade furs are harder to come by these days in part because of global warming. Cold winters produce the downy fur that makes the highest-quality felt. Mild winters in recent years have limited supplies.

Lower-priced hats are made from mostly rabbit fur, with a small percentage of beaver. The quality of fur felt is designated by the "X factor." A 100X hat is made from 100 percent beaver, and a 50X hat is 50 percent beaver fur.

For ranch hands whose hats get dirty and sweat-stained, a 20X hat is popular, because it can be replaced every few years. But the fine texture of beaver fur allows for a tighter weave in the felt, yielding a hat that is both softer and more protective from the elements.

In Old West movies, the good guys wore tall white hats and the villains wore black hats. Nowadays, a black cowboy hat is de rigueur. "Black doesn't show dirt as much," says Bishop, who wears a high-crowned one that contrasts with her flaxen hair. "Everybody has to have a basic black hat."

For Beau Michael, a professional "bronc" rider, the hat definitely matters. Some of it is practical, some psychological. He dons a custom-made black hat (roughly $500) that coordinates with his black cowboy boots and black plaid shirt. "I'm really happy with it," he says, as he lifts it lightly from his head and readjusts it.

Jerry Shepherd, a professional bull rider from Nephi, Utah, takes his penchant for custom hats a step farther. He buys a new one, pure beaver, about every six months. "When you're wearing it all the time when you're riding, it gets pretty beat up," he says. But there's another reason he replaces it. "If I don't stay on a lot of bulls, I get a new hat. It's just one of those mind games I play."

Glen Keller, Jr., director of the Westernaires, a horseback drill team for Denver-area youths, owns several hats, in various colors, which he rotates regularly. "I like to have some color coordination in my life," he says, eyes twinkling behind gold-rimmed glasses.

Today the retired federal judge is wearing black ostrich boots, a black cowboy hat, black jeans, a black-and-white checked shirt, and a white handkerchief knotted on his neck. He looks like Roy Rogers without the grin.

Mr. Keller hasn't purchased a new hat for about five years. He may want to wait five more before buying another. As he recalls it, the last one dented his wallet. "It was a lot of dadgum money," he says.

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