The first fedoras are usually black, sometimes brown, almost always made of fine, soft fur felt. They wear Stetson and Dobbs, names that have been around for decades as institutions of haberdashery.

Atlanta police homicide detectives like their traditions the way they like their hats. Classy. Meaningful.

Elissa Eubanks/eeubanks@ajc.com (ENLARGE)

Atlanta police Detective David Coleman speaks with a witness as part of a murder investigation. The fedora commands respect, says a retired Atlanta police lieutenant.

RELATED LINKS: • Hat squad photo gallery • Famous fedoras photo gallery LIVING Latest Headlines: [an error occurred while processing this directive] • More Living Stories • Living photo galleries • Georgia Aquarium news and photos • Zoo Atlanta news and photos

Every one of the 16 homicide detectives has at least one fedora. It's a solemn, stylish reward the first time he or she solves a case, paid for and delivered by the more experienced officers.

"It makes you feel like you're part of something," says Detective Mark Cooper, part of the unit since 2002. "Once you get it in your blood, you don't want to do anything else."

Many years and slayings later, most homicide detectives remember the names and stories of the first victim or perpetrator: a mother who drowned her child, a neighborhood dispute that turned violent, a debt that exploded into a fatal fight.

They remember the hats, too. They're on bookshelves in the office, or in their wardrobe rotations. Cooper plans to keep his on display in a shadowbox.

The fedora was a part of a detective's garb through the late 1950s, when the pinched-and-creased hat was in style. Many credit retired Atlanta police Lt. Danny Agan for bringing it back when he joined the unit in 1979, and his partner, Sgt. Charles Horton, for keeping it going. Fedoras were long out of fashion — they're tough to wear with big hair and big collars — but Agan says it made him feel completely dressed. He bought his son, homicide Detective Danny Agan Jr., his first fedora, too.

"You dress the part, you dress like a detective, you get better results," says the senior Agan, 55, of Douglasville, who retired five years ago. "It commands respect: Who's showing up to take charge of this mess?"

Even when Agan left the unit for a few years, snappy dressers continued the style.

In the early 1990s, it became less fashion statement, more symbol. Solve a case, earn a hat.

It was only in the early 2000s, though, that detectives started chipping in to buy the first hat. Now, it's often presented at dinner or a meeting, Lt. Keith Meadows says, to catch its wearer off-guard.

Detectives say the head gear is popular enough now that people living around a crime scene know a homicide is suspected when a man in a fedora steps out of a car.

"When you see a fedora on TV, you know what the story is going to be about," says Rick Linkwald, owner of the Executive Shop, a downtown clothing and hat store.

You can tell the police officers by their walk, he says. When they shop at this store, they gravitate to black fur felt Stetsons with wide brims and brown-and-red feathers, priced at $159. First-time hat buyers usually stare in the mirror and admit how much they look like their fathers and grandfathers; it's not so different for detectives following a tradition instead of a trend.

"They want to dress like guys they admire," Linkwald says.

As for the other identifiable groups coming through his doors, they're the usual shoppers: kids who want to look like celebrities, men who want to add a special stylish flair. And then there are the undertakers, stoic wearers of homburg-style hats.

The detectives are big shoppers. Some own six, 12, 18 hats. Straw for summer, fur felt for winter. Black, gray, brown, seasonal bands, multi-colored feathers. Black Dobbs boxes litter the homicide unit's office in City Hall East. Spare hats decorate cubicle walls. Female detectives don't usually wear their fedoras, but they keep them around. There's an unwritten rule that the hat style belongs to homicide detectives, but other departments and some Atlanta police officers pick up on it, too.

Homicide investigating isn't for everybody. It can be physically exhausting and emotionally decimating. Evidence is hard to piece together. Family members leave screaming, weeping messages on birthdays and holidays. An average day can be filled with gore or paperwork.

"People come over here all the time who start with really good intentions," says Meadows, who wears a fedora every day. "I would see tears just pouring down their eyes. They couldn't deal with the death."

Those who can deal with it tend to remain. Experience is everything — knowing what to look for, how to write a report, how to talk to a victim's friends and family.

Detective J. Thorpe Jr. remembers a night in 2004 when he was first called to lead an investigation. He wasn't next in line, but a shooting bumped him to the front. He pulled up and thought, "All right, I got to do this."

He wasn't alone.

"They all pulled up behind me," Thorpe says of his fellow detectives.

"Nobody goes out here by themselves," they told him. "We do this together."

He'd been a bandana guy, a baseball cap guy. When they sprang the fedora on him during a staff meeting after he solved the case, he took it. Now he owns six. He's a fedora guy, a detective.

"It's like walking around with a Yankees logo or a star on your helmet," Thorpe says. "What's Superman without the 'S' on his chest?"

HOW TO WEAR A FEDORA

It doesn't sound like good advice, but the prevailing wisdom about hat fit is this: Wear it how you like it. Rick Linkwald of the Executive Shop, a downtown hat and clothing store, says hat sales are going up as they appear more in pop culture. But Sarah Collins, a professor of fashion at Savannah College of Art and Design, says they're still a signature item that stands out on the street. "There's only so much you can do with a shirt and tie," she says. Let's put it this way: Wear it how you like it, but wear it with style. Here are a few ideas to consider:

Wear a hat that fits your body. Bigger people might want a hat with a wider brim. Smaller people, a smaller brim.

Consider other styles. A traditional fedora has a crease in the middle and a pinch in the front, but there are plenty of variations. Consider a homburg, which has a crease, but no pinch, and a curled brim. There's a porkpie, which has a flatter top with an indentation around the edge.

Measure your crown, but don't stay married to the number. Be realistic about how you'll wear it. Pulled forward, shading your eyes? Flat on your head, purely for function? Pushed back, with a lot of attitude? All those will affect the size and fit you'll want.

Don't buy the best right away. Try a less expensive version of what you think your dream hat will be, maybe straw before felt. It'll teach you how you use a hat, how to care for a hat and how you'd really like it to fit.

The fit. Loose enough that you won't get a headache, tight enough that wind won't blow it away.