I Wore Alo for a Week to Find Out Why Everyone in LA Loves It So Much

You know the logo: three letters all in lowercase, large and unabashed, over hat fronts, hips, and hearts. In the nearly two decades since Alo Yoga launched out of Los Angeles, it’s risen to a particular kind of cultural ubiquity, popular among Calabasas baddies and Lower East Side transplants alike, with Bella Hadid, Kaia Gerber, and the Jenners among its most recognizable patrons. Whether or not it’s fair, Alo communicates an identity: see someone in it, and you assume they have an Equinox membership, a go-to order at Erewhon, and a Raya account. They stan for Delta and have a favorite Soho House outside of the U.S.

I only recently realized how inescapable Alo was in my home of Los Angeles, and how little I actually knew about it. Just where were all these logo hats coming from? Did I miss a party everyone else got invited to? Is there a cult in LA rivaling Scientology’s numbers? Are the clothes really that comfortable? I haven’t been on Raya since the pre-Barbenheimer era, but I am a coastal transplant with a Delta account. I had a nice night at Soho House Paris one time. Have I been missing out?

I set a challenge for myself: five days of wearing Alo threads, with two minor asterisks: I could stick to my own sneakers (though the brand has launched footwear in the last couple years) and my own ballcaps (I believe that baseball hats are for sports teams, college pride, and hometown restaurants only).

With Monday dawning and a heat wave settling over Los Angeles, I dove into my week with Alo, eager to uncover what I’d learn about the brand—and maybe myself in the process.

Day 1: An Athleisurely Start

My sartorial savvy vacates the premises when the temps crack into the ’90s and beyond, so I immediately pulled on Alo’s Society Raw Edge tank, a riff on the gym rat DIY muscle tee with an extra-deep arm hole. It’s boxy and long, with a prominent brand tag sewn at the left hip. The heavyweight cotton felt heartier and rougher than the rest of the stretchier stuff I’d picked up for the experiment, which I immediately appreciated.

The tank went over a pair of the Repetition Shorts with a five-inch inseam, and I went about my day. I felt put together while running errands, and was able to go straight to the tennis court that evening without changing clothes, which, I suppose, is kind of the whole point of athleisure.

Day 2: My Inner Sandler

I’d been most excited to try out the brand’s Double Take tee, a boxy tee made from French terry and modal with a touch of spandex. As someone with a drawer full of Fear of God Essentials tees, the Double Take felt like the Alo staple with the lowest barrier of entry for me. I matched a heather gray one with the brand’s Traction Arena Short—a pair of retro basketball shorts that would register as a seven on the Adam Sandler scale of bagginess.