How to Wear ALOCS Crewneck Honest Review Inside

So what is That’s A Awful Lot Of Cough Syrup?

Rapper Desto Dubb started That’s A Awful Lot Of Cough Syrup, an indie apparel label based in Los Angeles. The label contracts to ALOCS, an abbreviation used across the press material and built into item names such as the A.L.O.C.S. T-Shirt. On paper the range is conventional, covering tees, hoodies, sweatpants, shorts, denim and accessories; in practice it is peculiar, because the brand’s own name carries the graphic load on most of it. Shoppers search for it under a dozen different spellings, including alocs clothing, cough syrup clothing and the shorthand awful lot of cough syrup. The legal entity is registered as THATS A AWFUL LOT OF… LLC, with buy alocs hoodie no apostrophe and a trailing ellipsis. One detail is worth getting straight first: the brand writes “A Awful Lot”, not “An Awful Lot”, and the ungrammatical article is entirely deliberate. It is standard to type thats a awful lot of cough syrup without the apostrophe, yet only the version with “A” fits the registered mark.

Who is behind it?

Desto Dubb, who grew up in Watts in South Los Angeles and makes his living as a rapper and entrepreneur, is the founder and chief executive. This is not a design studio with a rapper attached as a face; it is a rapper’s business, operated from the same crowd as his records. Music came years before the first shirt, and that accounts for much of how the company conducts itself. He has maintained that other labels are built around an aesthetic, and that his own is wrapped around himself instead. The result surfaces in graphics that read like song titles and in drops pegged to events rather than fashion seasons.

His legal name is a much thinner paper trail than the internet implies. The United States trademark for the phrase is registered to Joshua Kashif Taylor, and posts on the brand’s own blog carry a matching byline. Other names do the rounds on unsourced commercial sites and are best left alone, since for every practical purpose he is Desto Dubb.

Where did the name originate?

The public met the phrase through a viral clip in which an officer’s line became the brand name, and Desto Dubb turned that line into a business. The anecdote turns up in nearly every write-up, and it deserves care, since material online claims the clip was staged and no primary transcript settles it. What is documented is the commercial outcome rather than the encounter, and the trademark record gives first use of the mark in November 2018.

The phrase refers to promethazine-codeine cough syrup, the prescription medicine known in rap slang as lean, and the company does not pretend otherwise. Medical and horror imagery is scattered across the product names, from Big Pharma and Promethazine Tour to Paralysis and Drankenstein, and it works as a graphic vocabulary rather than an instruction. It declines treating that as a selling point, and its own site runs a standing banner reading “! PLEASE DO NOT SIP DRANK AND SHOOT FIREARMS !”. The clothing is clothing, and the rest of this piece is about garments and prices.

When did the brand begin?

Use 2018. First use of the mark is given in the trademark filing as November 2018, and an AllHipHop profile published in November 2023 describes the label marking its fifth anniversary. Some coverage puts the earliest selling during the pandemic, which conflicts with both markers, and the filing and the anniversary piece are the stronger pair. Having two independent pointers to a single year is more than most young streetwear brands can muster.

The start was literally a van. The brand’s own about page has Desto Dubb selling clothes out of a van in a parking lot in downtown Los Angeles, which is the origin it tells on itself rather than one assembled by a reporter. The method is still summed up by that detail: small batches, direct contact with buyers, and drops announced through social accounts instead of wholesale calendars. By 2026 there is an online store and physical retail, and even so the rhythm still looks closer to a van than a department store, with fresh batches landing every week or two.

What is actually on the rail?

Heavyweight cut-and-sew basics bearing jumbo screen prints front and back form the core. The heavy end is hoodies: the Classic Cough Syrup Hoodie is listed at 16 oz organic cotton and hand-dyed in Los Angeles, and sweatpants use a 14 oz cotton and recycled polyester fleece. Tee names run to King Of The Kill, Drankenstein, Juicebusters and Big Pharma, and the Classic Cough Syrup T-Shirt is published at 6.5 oz organic cotton. Denim is deliberately kept thin, and the Double Cup Cargo Shorts, a 14 oz garment-dyed cargo short with double-layer back pockets, is the only piece in that collection in 2026.

Better than any graphic, two details identify the brand, namely the signature yellow woven label, invoked again and again in its own product copy, and the published fabric weight. Fit guidance shifts by garment and is not uniform: the classic pieces are called true to size, while the lightweight jersey tees say plainly that they run small. Sizing runs XS to 3XL on apparel, with denim and workwear sold by waist from 28 to 44, and neither a global size chart nor washing instructions is published.

How much does it cost?

The core prices move very little, which makes them easy to hold in your head. As of September 2026, a tee is about $150 at the brand’s own store, a hoodie about $200 and sweatpants about $200. Denim shorts sit near $150, puffer jackets between roughly $200 and $250, belts and Dickies trousers around $250, and the Dickies jacket tops the range near $350. At the bottom a bandana runs about $25, socks and boxers fall in the $50 to $70 band, and women’s pieces roughly $48 to $160.

Streetwear prices and stock move constantly, which makes that ladder a shape rather than a quote. The band places cough syrup clothing at the upper end of independent streetwear, well above mall-tier graphic brands and far below European luxury houses. It doubles as an authenticity signal, because a $45 tee wearing this logo did not come from the company selling them at $150.

Where is it made, and where do you buy it?

Los Angeles, and the brand states it on the garments themselves. Across the product copy “Made in Los Angeles” is repeated, and individual pieces are described as hand-dyed and printed or screen-printed in the city rather than finished abroad. The same copy also presents the company as a Black-owned business. Local small-batch production explains the numbers at these price levels, because a 16 oz cotton hoodie made here was never going to be a $60 garment.

The company runs its own online store plus a small number of physical locations. The flagship is at 7669 Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles, with 312 West 5th Street in Los Angeles and 5410 Almeda Road in Houston also listed. No store-locator page and no published opening hours are provided, which makes those addresses worth confirming before travelling. The garment is the best test for anything else claiming to be an outlet: the yellow woven label, the published fabric weight, the real price level, and whether the product name appears in the brand’s own catalogue.

The brand fact file

The table below gathers the details that survive checking and leaves out the ones that do not. Dates come from the trademark record and dated press coverage rather than brand mythology. Read from the brand’s own store in September 2026, the prices are hedged, because they move. Those addresses are the ones the company lists on its own social profiles, and no opening dates are published. Where a claim is contested, such as the origin clip, the row records what is documented. Use it as a starting point for your own checks rather than a final word.