On Confidence: Simay Demirel

THE WOMEN OF

Apr 6

Written By Bonnie Langedijk

Simay Demirel

We talk about confidence as though it's something you either have or you don't. But the women we admire most tend to describe it differently. As something earned, tested, and closely tied to the environments they work in, the people around them, and the courage to do things on their own terms. We spoke with three of them about what that looks like in practice.

In Partnership with Róhe

By Bonnie Langedijk

Simay Demirel was born and raised in Istanbul and moved to Paris in 2016, where she works as a consultant with fashion houses including Lemaire and Alaïa. But her real fixation lives elsewhere. Through her account Where I Would Like to Read, she began curating the kinds of spaces that make you want to slow down — interiors built for reading, for looking, for paying attention. It grew into something larger: a personal collection of over 400 vintage and rare books on art, design and lifestyle, and Demirel started curating displays for galleries and showrooms across Europe. She describes confidence as something she has never had to chase, not out of certainty, but because holding back has never come naturally. She is drawn to what she doesn't yet know, and that has always been enough to keep going.

How do you relate to the concept of confidence?

It’s a form of freedom to me. The ability to be fully myself. Some are born with that sense of ease and others learn to grow into it over time, I guess. In my case it’s always been part of my nature. I’ve never been overly concerned with how I’m perceived. What grounds me is what I choose to cultivate and preserve: The space I created for myself, my personal relationships, and my work. That's where I invest my energy.

Your work has a clear point of view. How have you developed it and how do you protect it?

My work is deeply personal, so I approach it with the same honesty I give to anything that matters to me. It began with an Instagram page, bringing together a community of readers around places that inspire them to read. From there, it naturally evolved into sharing and curating selections from my own library. Today, I source books I would genuinely want to keep for myself, and create displays for galleries and brands. The intention has always been to create a space where people can immerse themselves in the kind of inspiration that vintage imagery offers. I find that staying close to my own vision, and staying consistent with it, is what protects it.

“Constant comparison can shift CONFIDENCE into something more performative. I try not to let it affect the way I operate. I’m far more interested in what makes each person distinct, so comparison has never felt natural to me.”

Are there any books or authors who changed your perspective on confidence and what it means to be confident?

I have a collection of over 400 vintage and rare books, and reading the parcours of different artists, where they come from and how they built something for themselves later in life, is so inspiring to me. Isamu Noguchi for example, the genius that he is, was actually deeply self-critical. He resisted the idea of ever feeling complete, and saw creation as an ongoing process rather than a finished statement. I tend to be less critical about my work, but I understand that quiet perfectionism. It’s reassuring to know even someone like him carried that tension.

Do you believe the age of constant comparison has changed how we relate to the concept of confidence?

It definitely must have, for some people at least. Constant comparison can shift confidence into something more performative. I try not to let it affect the way I operate. I’m far more interested in what makes each person distinct, so comparison has never felt natural to me.

We tend to associate confidence with success, but in my opinion confidence is often built or strengthened when things don't go as planned. How do you look at the relationship between confidence and getting it wrong?

Absolutely, life happens while we’re busy making plans. After school I was meant to follow a more traditional path, working full time at an office behind a computer. Instead, I chose to take a risk. I kept part of what I was doing as freelance work, collaborating with a selection of brands I genuinely respect, and dedicated the rest of my time to more personal, creative projects that felt deeply nourishing. To find a rhythm that worked, I had to allow myself a period of uncertainty. But great things take time.

How does what you put on your body affect how you feel?

A look can completely define the level of power or clarity I step into. For important occasions, I tend to rely on wardrobe staples. I like consistency, I find that it allows my work, or what I’m there to do, to stand out rather than the clothes themselves. I’m not someone who enjoys taking risks with what I wear.

Are there people, places or rituals that reliably bring you back to yourself?

Definitely going back to Istanbul. I try to go at least twice a year, and every visit deepens my connection to my roots. I’ve grown to be very independent, building a life for myself away from where I grew up, but I’m still very family-oriented, so being with my parents there—or with my partner in Paris is when I feel the most like myself. And in Istanbul, I have little rituals. I like going to the oldest, most humble places—whether it’s a restaurant, a bookstore or a hammam. There’s something very grounding in that continuity.

Is there a part of your life where you're still building confidence?

I wouldn’t say there’s a specific area where I’m still building confidence. Not out of certainty, but because I don’t naturally hold myself back. I’m a curator and a visual researcher, and I’m drawn to what I don’t yet know. That curiosity, willingness to remain a student, has never intimidated me.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.