The Cowboy Hat: History, Etiquette, and Western Identity

[Pull quote forward]

[INTRO MUSIC]

Howdy y’all, Chip Schweiger, here. Welcome to another edition of Way Out West.

The podcast that takes you on a journey through the stories of the American West, brings you the very best cowboy wisdom, and celebrates the cowboys and cowgirls who are feeding a nation. 

Out here, where the sky stretches wider than any man can measure, and the sun shows no mercy from dawn to dusk, there’s one thing a cowboy can always count on—his hat.

Not just a fashion statement. Not just shade.

A cowboy hat is part of the man. A partner in the dust and the drive.

It’s been dipped in creek water, sat on during poker games, and waved in the air to stop a stampede.

Some say it’s just felt and sweat and steam. But Way Out West? It’s identity. It’s legacy.

So, today on the show we’re takin’ a ride through the rise of the cowboy hat.

Where it came from, how it changed, and what it still means to those of us who ride for the brand.

After the episode, check out the show notes at WayOutWestPod.com/cowboyhat

[MUSIC]

Howdy and welcome back. Back in the early days of the trail, cowboy hats weren’t what you’d expect. No Cattleman creases. No silverbelly felt.

Just whatever a fella could scrounge up— Bowler hats. Civil War leftovers. Mexican sombreros. Even caps from back East.

Problem was, they didn’t hold up. Riding for days under a blazing sun, through wind, dust, and rain? Those hats just weren’t cut out for it.

Enter John B. Stetson.

A hatmaker from the East who struck out West during the Gold Rush.

Legend has it he made a felt hat while camping in Colorado—shaped it by hand, waterproofed it, and tested it under the same rough skies that cowboys rode beneath.

He called it the Boss of the Plains.

Light-colored, tall-crowned, and wide-brimmed. A hat built for the West—not borrowed from it.

And it took off like a prairie fire in a dry summer.

Before we move on I’ll mention that if you’re interested in digging deeper into John B Stetson, I wrote a blog article on it at CowboyAccountant.com, and I’ll put a link in the show notes so you can check it out later.

CHAPTER 2: Built for Work

Now let’s talk why that Stetson stuck.

It wasn’t just about looks. It was practical. It was tough. It did the job.

The high crown acted like a chimney—keeping a cowboy’s head cool. The wide brim gave shade in the heat, shed rain in a storm, and blocked wind on the prairie.

It could scoop water for a thirsty horse. Fan a fire in camp. Even cradle your head like a pillow under the stars.

And here’s the thing—A good cowboy shaped his own brim and crease by hand.

No two hats were exactly alike. Just like no two cowboys were.

Your hat said who you were, how you worked,
and what part of the West you called home.

CHAPTER 3: Creases, Brims, and Cowboy Identity

Over time, creases became a language of their own.

You had the Cattleman crease—sharp lines down the center. The Pinch front—popular with rodeo riders. The Gus—named after a fictional cowboy in Lonesome Dove. The Montana peak, the brick top, the open crown—all told stories.

Even the brim shape meant something.

Flat? You’re probably a buckaroo out Nevada way. Slightly curved with a deeper dip in front? Might be a Texas hand. Turned up on the sides, you surely were from west Texas.

Out on the range, you didn’t need to ask where a man came from—
you just looked at his hat.

 And it wasn’t just shape that mattered—it was care. A clean, well-shaped hat? You were likely headed to church or courtin’. Dusty and dented? You’d been working cattle, riding fence, maybe takin’ some lumps from the day.

And let me tell you—there are rules about hats. Serious ones. And we’re gonna talk about those in a bit, so stick around.

CHAPTER 4: From Trail to Town

Once the cowboy hat became standard on the range, it started showing up in town.

On the heads of gamblers, barkeeps, ranch owners.
Then came the movies—and the cowboy hat became mythical.

Tom Mix wore a ten-gallon white hat. John Wayne’s was low and strong, just like him. Clint Eastwood rocked that rolled brim and scowl like no other.

And the world watched.
From New York to Paris, folks knew:
If you wore a cowboy hat, you meant business.
You were independent. Free. Tough.

But here’s the truth: For working cowboys, the hat never lost its purpose.

It wasn’t about show. It was about use. Rain or shine. Work or church. That hat went where you went.

Today, the cowboy hat still rides high.

Sure, you’ll see ’em on country stars and influencers. But out here, on ranches and in rodeo arenas, it’s still as real as it ever was.

Some wear felt. Others straw.
Some keep it crisp. Others let it get good and broken in.

Whatever the style—when you see a cowboy tip his hat, you’re looking at more than a nod. You’re looking at history.

That hat’s been rained on, worked in, and maybe even bled on. It’s not just something he wears. It’s something he earns.

Let’s take a quick break, and when we come back, we’ll talk about cowboy hat etiquette. Be right back

[Music]

Chapter 5- Cowboy Hat Etiquette

Welcome back. When it comes to cowboy hats, there aren’t a whole lot of rules—but the ones that do exist? They’re sacred. Especially to folks who live by the code of the West. Break ‘em at your own risk.

Rule #1: Never, ever touch another person’s hat. This one’s not up for debate. Don’t ask to try it on. Don’t ask what it’s made of.

And whatever you do, don’t reach out to dust it off like you’re doing someone a favor.

That dust? It’s earned. It’s a badge of time spent in the saddle, not a blemish to be polished. Admire it, smile, and keep your hands to yourself.

Because if you touch another cowboy’s hat, things might get complicated real fast.

The only exceptions? Maybe a spouse. A close friend. And of course, grandkids—grandkids can do just about anything and get away with it.

Rule #2: Take your hat off indoors. If you’re stepping into a building, the hat comes off. Informal setting? You can put it back on once you're inside.
Formal setting—like church, a wedding, or a nice restaurant—it stays off.
In your hands or on a hat rack, not on your head.

Rule #3: Never put your hat on a bed. It’s bad luck. Really bad.
Cowboys will tell you this isn’t just superstition—it’s the kind of omen you don’t mess with.

If you forget and drop your hat on the bed, don’t panic—there’s a fix:
Throw it to the ground.
Give it a respectful little kick across the room.
Say a few words to the spirit of John Wayne.
Then knock back a shot of whiskey before you put it back on.
Do all that, and you might be in the clear.

Rule #4: Sitting at the table, hat comes off. At the counter, hat stays on. If you’re sitting at a table to eat—especially in town—the hat comes off.

It’s manners. It shows you were raised right. My daddy would’ve smacked the hat off my head if I forgot that one.

Now, if you’re eating at a counter, or sitting around a campfire out on the range—leave it on. Out there, taking it off means risking it getting stepped on… or filled with beans.

Rule #5: Show respect during sacred moments. Your hat comes off in church. During the National Anthem. At the start of a public prayer.

And when Old Glory passes by in a parade—or a grand entry at the rodeo.

In Texas? Wait until the Lone Star Flag passes too, then you can settle it back on your head.

Rule #6: Greet with your hat. When you meet a lady or an older gentleman, remove your hat as a sign of respect—or at least touch your hand to the brim.

This custom comes from the Old West, where moving your hand to your hat showed friendly intentions—because it meant your hand wasn’t headed toward your holster.

Tipping your hat when greeting someone isn’t mandatory every time, but it shows you’ve got good breeding. And good manners never go out of style.

And a note for the ladies: None of this really applies to you—except the golden rule: don’t touch another’s hat without permission.
Other than that? Wear your hat how and when you please.

Bottom line: These rules aren’t written in stone—but they’re woven into the fabric of cowboy culture. They might vary depending on where you are, who you're with, and how well folks know the code.

So when in doubt, follow the rules above and you won’t go wrong. After all, respect—like a good hat—never goes out of fashion.

Chapter 6: CLOSING THOUGHTS

So what can we take away from a cowboy hat?

Start with this: Choose gear that does the job. Let your style say something about who you are. And never forget where you came from.

A cowboy’s hat is shaped by work.
By wind. By rain. By years under the open sky.

And maybe that’s how we ought to live—lettin’ life shape us with a little weather,
a little wear, and a whole lotta pride.

OK, before we wrap us this week, we’ve got one more thing.

[BULL SOUND]

Chapter 7: Cowboy Glossary Term of the Week

Yep, that distinctive call from Buster the Bull means it’s time for the cowboy glossary term of the week. 

This week’s term is Crease. So when we’re talking about hats, the crease is the shape or dent steamed into the crown of a cowboy hat. 

Creases come in many styles—like cattleman, pinch front, or brick—and often signal region, tradition, or personal flair. 

A cowboy’s crease is like his signature. Very personal.

So if you don’t own a cowboy hat, I’d encourage you to go get one, but spend a bit more time to have them steam it and shape it into the perfect crease for you

[OUTRO MUSIC]

Well, that does it for this week’s episode. Thanks for ridin’ along on this journey through felt, form, and frontier soul.

This is Chip Schweiger reminding you to tip your brim as a sign of respect, ride true, and never put that hat on your bed. 

We’ll see ya down the road.