How Stetson Makes Its Legendary Cowboy Hats

Stetson, the American hat brand founded in 1865, is having a banner year. To commemorate its 160^th birthday, the label has released an anniversary collection with limited edition iterations of its greatest-hits, from tall-crowned cowboy hats to beaver-felt dress styles. And this week, the business built on Western headwear got the big-city stamp of approval with the publication of Stetson: American Icon (Rizzoli), whose 320 glossy pages tell its story with contributions from the likes of musician Lyle Lovett, New York Times film critic Glenn Kenny and historian Douglas Brinkley.

In the May before its launch, I had my own opportunity to get familiarized with Stetson, when I received an invitation to view its factory in Garland, Texas, some 40 minutes’ drive from Dallas. It was my first visit to the Lone Star State, which affirmed all my preconceptions about it on the drive from DFW airport to my hotel: giant flags (national and state), 100-degree heat, and a Medieval Times seemingly the size of two whole city blocks. I was a far way from Boston, where a felt cowboy hat would have looked as out of place as a Yankees cap.

The following morning brought me to the factory, whose original structure dates to 1938 (Stetson’s first factory was located outside of Philadelphia; production later moved to Missouri before settling in Texas in 2005, where the label is produced at a facility owned by Hatco, which also makes the Resistol and Charlie 1 Horse hat brands). Under the guidance of Justin Thomason, Hatco’s director of production, our small group was shuttled into a high-ceilinged chamber where 150 employees make as many as 2,850 felt hats each day (in addition, another 1,200 straw hats are made daily at an adjacent facility).

It begins with a process called blocking, which establishes the hat’s crown height and head size by inserting the beaver fur hat in its roughest, bell-shaped form into numbered machines that will stretch it through force and steam to meet a certain model’s proportions. Next, a liquid substance called shellac—traditionally sourced from Asian beetles, now sometimes synthetic—is applied to the brim until it reaches saturation so that it will better retain its shape.

Afterwards, a squaring solution—a powdery mixture of water and a gel-like batter used in the decorative cake business—is applied to the inside of the hat’s crown to act as a stiffening agent. Following its application, the hat will then air-dry for up to three days.

Once dry, hats-in-process undergo a second blocking to further impress the shape, and are then crown-ironed, which sees the hats spun on pads heated to 250 degrees while being brushed to ensure its fur runs in a single direction. This is followed by “pouncing,” another new-to-me word, describing a process in which the hats are heavily greased according to their desired color and then essentially sanded at a series of stations to reach a smooth yet rigid finish.

After all this, the hats begin to resemble their final form through what’s called a crown press, where they are pressed at numbered banks that correspond to nearly 60 different shapes. Within the machines, heated up to 275 degrees, a balloon will exert up to 100 pounds of pressure; this combination of extreme heat and force will force the crown into its permanent shape in less than a minute.  

The brims are then cut—typically anywhere from two to five inches, depending on the model—using machines that are up to 70 years old, some of which date back to the original Stetson factory.

“These are dinosaurs. Once they’re gone, they’re gone,” Thomason says of the lovingly maintained and irreplaceable equipment, adding that up to 60% of all their machinery may be considered antique.

Next, the brim gets its shape through a process called flanging, accomplished via machines heated to 275 degrees that will press brims with 60 pounds of pressure. After the hat has cooled, Rosa—a factory floor veteran of 30 years—will steam it to relax the fur’s fibers, and then inspect it for stains and imperfections. When the hat passes muster, its leather sweatband will be cut down to size and applied by skilled sewers.

Once any other trims or details are added, finished hats undergo a final inspection that will confirm that hats are free of imperfections and correctly finished according to model: ultimately, anywhere from 3 to 5% of hats fall into the “knockdown” percentage that can’t be altered or repaired, a number that speaks to the brand’s high standards. 

After my morning spent in the Garland factory, flavored by the sweet-alcohol scent of shellac, clouds of steam and the hissing sound of machines twice my own age, I took some satisfaction that we are still making things in this country, contrary to popular belief. And of all the things worth being made in America, a cowboy hat should stand around the top of that list—and hopefully will for another 160 years.