Cough Syrup Wardrobe Value Guide Questions Answered

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

The LA rapper Desto Dubb founded That’s A Awful Lot Of Cough Syrup, a privately held streetwear brand based in Los Angeles. The label compresses to ALOCS, an abbreviation found in its press material and built into garment names such as the A.L.O.C.S. T-Shirt. On paper the range is unremarkable, taking in tees, hoodies, sweatpants, shorts, denim and accessories; in practice it is odd, because the brand’s own name supplies the main graphic for most of it. Set down as THATS A AWFUL LOT OF… LLC, the legal entity carries no apostrophe and a trailing ellipsis. Shoppers get there buy alocs through a dozen different spellings, including alocs clothing, cough syrup clothing and the shorthand awful lot of cough syrup. Before anything else, settle this: the brand writes “A Awful Lot”, not “An Awful Lot”, and the ungrammatical article is a choice. Many people type thats a awful lot of cough syrup without the apostrophe, but only the version with “A” fits the registered mark.

Who makes it?

The founder and chief executive is Desto Dubb, a rapper and entrepreneur from Watts in South Los Angeles. This is not a design studio with a rapper attached as a face; it is a rapper’s business, operated from the same circle as his records. His music came years before the first shirt, and that does a lot to explain how the company operates. He has characterised other labels as built around an aesthetic, and his own as wrapped around himself instead. The result comes out in graphics that read like song titles and in drops keyed to events rather than fashion seasons.

On his legal name the documentary record is lighter than the internet implies. Two things line up: 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 keep surfacing on unsourced commercial sites and are best left alone, since for every practical purpose he is Desto Dubb.

Where does the name come from?

The phrase entered public view through a viral clip in which an officer’s line became the brand name, and Desto Dubb built a business out of that line. The anecdote shows up in nearly every write-up, and it deserves care, since material online claims the clip was staged and no primary transcript settles it. Documentation is confined to the commercial outcome rather than the encounter, and the trademark record records first use of the mark in November 2018.

What the phrase refers to is promethazine-codeine cough syrup, the prescription medicine known in rap slang as lean, and the company does not pretend otherwise. Medical and horror imagery threads through 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 also does not treat that as a selling point, and its own site carries a standing banner reading “! PLEASE DO NOT SIP DRANK AND SHOOT FIREARMS !”. Clothing is clothing, and what remains is about garments and prices.

When did the brand begin?

The year to use is 2018. First use of the mark is put in the trademark filing as November 2018, and an AllHipHop profile published in November 2023 describes the label marking its fifth anniversary. Some coverage places the earliest selling during the pandemic, which conflicts with both markers, and the filing and the anniversary piece are the stronger pair. Most young streetwear brands cannot muster two independent pointers to one year.

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

What does the brand actually sell?

Heavyweight cut-and-sew basics wearing jumbo screen prints front and back make up the core. Hoodies anchor the heavy end, with the Classic Cough Syrup Hoodie listed at 16 oz organic cotton and hand-dyed in Los Angeles, while sweatpants use a 14 oz cotton and recycled polyester fleece. Names like King Of The Kill, Drankenstein, Juicebusters and Big Pharma decorate the tees, while the Classic Cough Syrup T-Shirt is published at 6.5 oz organic cotton. Denim is 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. 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. Fit guidance is set per garment and is not uniform, since the classic pieces are called true to size while the lightweight jersey tees say plainly that they run small.

What do the clothes cost?

The core prices hardly shift, which makes them easy to hold in your head. At the brand’s own store, as of September 2026, a tee is about $150, a hoodie about $200 and sweatpants about $200. Denim shorts settle near $150, puffer jackets between roughly $200 and $250, belts and Dickies trousers around $250, while the Dickies jacket tops the range near $350. The other end has a bandana at about $25, socks and boxers in the $50 to $70 band, and women’s pieces roughly $48 to $160.

Because streetwear prices and stock change constantly, take that ladder as a shape rather than a quote. Cough syrup clothing falls at the upper end of independent streetwear on that band, well above mall-tier graphic brands and far below European luxury houses. The band also acts as an authenticity signal, since 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, a fact the brand prints on the garments themselves. “Made in Los Angeles” turns up again and again in the product copy, and individual pieces are described as hand-dyed and printed or screen-printed in the city rather than finished abroad. That same copy describes the company a Black-owned business. Given local small-batch production, the numbers at these price levels make sense, because a 16 oz cotton hoodie made here was never going to be a $60 garment.

Alongside a small number of physical locations the company keeps its own online store. 7669 Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles is the flagship, and the company also lists 312 West 5th Street in Los Angeles and 5410 Almeda Road in Houston. The company offers no store-locator page and no opening hours, so those addresses are worth confirming before travelling. Anything else that presents itself as an outlet is best judged on the garment, meaning the yellow woven label, the published fabric weight, the real price level, and whether the product name appears in the brand’s own catalogue.

A brand fact file

Below, the table gathers the details that survive checking and leaves out the ones that do not. Prices were read from the brand’s own store in September 2026 and are hedged, because they move. Dates here depend on the trademark record and dated press coverage rather than brand mythology. 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. It works best as a starting point for your own checks rather than a final word.