T-Model Ford steps onto the stage at King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut. He’s in his 80s, gripping a bottle of Jack Daniels, backed by a drummer young enough to be his grandson. He leans into the mic, grins like the devil, and says:

> “I’m T-Model Ford. And I’m gonna mess you up.”

And he does.

He plays what he calls “one-bar blues”—raw, hypnotic, and untrained. His guitar isn’t tuned to any standard. It’s tuned to survival. His hands bear the prints of shackles from his time on a Mississippi chain gang. He didn’t pick up a guitar until he was 58—after his wife bought him one and then left him. That night, he played like the blues were chasing him down a Glasgow alley.

It wasn’t just a gig. It was a transmission. 
Mississippi heat in a Scottish downpour. 
Diaspora, defiance, and rhythm colliding in a room that smelled of beer and electricity.

That moment lives in everything we do at **Internationalists**.

We believe in clothes that testify. 
In style that remembers. 
In rhythm that rebels.

From the Crombie to the Harrington, from Sea Island cotton to bootcut trousers, our capsule isn’t just curated—it’s lived. It’s for those who walk through drizzle with purpose, who dress like every street corner might turn into a stage.

We’re not here to play it safe. 
We’re here to mess things up—beautifully.