How Cutwater Became the Chaotic King of Canned Cocktails
“Frankly, we like the fact that it’s high ABV and doesn’t taste like trash,” she says. “They’re great if you’re just looking to have one or two drinks on a weeknight at home.”
Cutwater is roughly equivalent in sugar and ABV to a glass of wine, but nobody’s savoring the brand’s Long Island Iced Tea the way they might an ice-cold pour of Sancerre. Instead, there’s something just a little bit naughty about it—a wink and a nod to the days of “pregaming.” As I was reporting this story, a 39-year-old LA mom sent me a screenshot from her group chat—“The babes are asleep…getting out of the house (maybe sneaking a lil Cutwater while I do).” Mom’s night out was about to get a little turnt.
On social media, Cutwater is notorious for its high alcoholic content, with viewers leaving comments like “Four Loko walked so Cutwater could run.” TikToker Loryn Powell had a viral moment testing out how many cans she needed to drink to blow a .08 BAC on a Breathalyzer. And booze influencer Liquor352 took to TikTok to explain why Cutwaters get you so drunk. (It’s the booze.) I’ve developed my own Cutwater ritual, ducking into my local liquor store once a week to grab two cans at a time, then tucking them into my bag alongside my 6-year-old’s half-eaten granola bar.
It feels like a stolen moment, a small treat I pour over ice after shutting my laptop for the day. I sip it while starting dinner for my kid, scrolling through the inevitably awful headlines on my phone. If once a upon a time a dutiful wife donned a teddy and brought her husband a chilled martini at the end of the day, I’m just enjoying my can of margarita in my sweats.
But the other night, when I went on my Cutwater run, the shelves where they’re usually stocked were nearly bare. The owner told me they’d sold out of every flavor but White Russian, and that Lime Margarita was flying out as fast as they could stock it. She said Cutwater sales were now keeping pace with High Noon—a huge increase from last year. She assured me I could come back in two days for my margaritas. When I did, however, she was still waiting on the reup. It was the same story at the shop up the street, where the clerk told me he’d heard there was an East Coast Cutwater shortage, a rumor that’s supported anecdotally by social media posts about empty store shelves and panicked shoppers.
As I pawed through the cooler, pushing aside Straw-Ber-Ritas, a woman beside me commiserated, wondering aloud if she’d be forced to settle for a BeatBox. If so, she said, she’d simply have to blame that decision on Trump’s tariffs and a broken supply chain.
The world is ending, we agreed. Bottoms up.
