Lava Ilieva: 'True Skill Is Turning ‘Garbage’ Into Value'

by Alexandra Mansilla

Lava Ilieva: 'Anyone Сan Create With Money. True Skill Is Turning ‘Garbage’ Into Value'

10 Feb 2025

Photo: Artém Gilman

“Lava from THE KARAK on the boat, on the pirate boat.” That is how one of the videos from Karak On the Dhow kicked off.

So, meet Lava Ilieva — one of the driving forces behind THE KARAK, half of the FLAVA LAB duo, and someone who is, in a way, always on a pirate boat (but the good kind). She is constantly on a creative adventure, scanning the horizon with her spyglass for talented people to feature on THE KARAK Conversations, discovering new creative territories, and breaking down boundaries — because, really, do boundaries even exist for creative people?

What do we know about her? Now, almost everything — from her childhood in rhythmic gymnastics to walking away from the sport, her experience with burnout, and, of course, the journey that led to THE KARAK.

By the way, save the date: Next Karak On The Dhow is happening on February 22! Grab your tickets here.

— Hi Lava! Since we are talking at the beginning of the year — and on your birthday [we were talking on January 8] — I would love to ask: How was your 2024?

— Fully work-focused. Still in the beginning stage of two brands for which we're planning to be lifetime projects. Trying to focus on one at a time but also not leaving the other fully in the shadows. THE KARAK we were nourishing the most. But we also took every opportunity for production and design project that came our way. Also, I wanted to continue with my styling jobs. I supported my friend who had just started her gluten-free and sugar-free coffee shop — I worked on the brand identity and everything else that came with it.

So… 2024 was hectic! And I think I truly realised what “hectic” meant. Life became 24/7, nonstop. There was no time for travel. We managed one vacation — a few days in Bulgaria — but all I remember from that trip is being on a Zoom call in the middle of a swimming pool, trying to explain the design of an ice cream shop being built in Dubai.

I have lost count of how many times I fell asleep in my clothes, still wearing my makeup, only to wake up thinking, “Oh no, it happened again.” It has been an intense ride.

— I came across a Bulgarian media outlet where you gave an interview — it was a while ago. You mentioned that your mom, Anelia Monova, is a renowned choreographer who has worked with the national teams of Bulgaria, the USA, Germany, and Greece. That is incredible! I would love to hear more about her.

— Wow! I remember this interview! My mom had an impressive career working as a coach and choreographer for national teams in various countries, including the U.S., Germany, and Greece. She specialised in acrobatic gymnastics, a non-Olympic sport — which she always found frustrating. It was her forever struggle that acrobatic gymnastics wasn’t recognised as an Olympic sport, unlike other disciplines. Eventually, she reached a point in Bulgaria where she felt she couldn’t keep fighting against the system and decided to take the opportunity in Dubai.

At the time, I was in the 11th grade. My first reaction was, “Oh no, here we go again,” because she had travelled so much before, and we would often feel like we were losing her to work. Our family was a bit sad about it, but we understood it was a great opportunity for her. A few weeks later, I ended up moving with her.

Lava and her mom, Anelia Monova; little Lava. Photo: Lava's personal archive

— And you did rhythmic gymnastics, too, right?

— Yes! Both of my parents have strong backgrounds in sports — my dad was a volleyball player, and my mom was an acrobat since she was five years old. Naturally, they wanted me to follow a similar path. My mom, knowing I wouldn’t listen to her if she coached me directly, sent me to a rhythmic gymnastics coach

It wasn’t my choice. Generically, I was perfect for Rhythmic gymnastics, but it felt forced on me, and I eventually developed a strong dislike for competitions. I had some traumatic experiences due to the harsh, no-choice culture of the sport — especially in former Soviet Union-influenced countries. Coaches would say things like, “If you drop the ball, I’ll kill you after,” which created an incredibly toxic environment. I hated the pressure, and for my last two years in the team, I begged my coaches to let me continue the sport without competing. But they wouldn’t listen. Instead, they would punish me, even throwing shoes at me.

To make matters worse, I had a health condition involving weak connective tissue, which caused me to faint occasionally during routines. But instead of showing concern, they dismissed it as “normal.” Eventually, I managed to convince my parents to let me quit. I swore I would never set foot in a gym again or pursue any kind of sport. I moved on, enrolling in a French school where I studied French and took photography courses — activities completely unrelated to sports.

But life had other plans. A classmate who practised boxing invited me to watch his training. I was intrigued because I had been thinking about getting back into shape for my health, so I went. At the time, I had long nails, and at the end of the session, my friend introduced me to the coach. The coach laughed and said, “Sure, when she cuts those nails, maybe she can try.” I love being underestimated. The very next day, I cut my nails and joined the training.

Training alongside 20 or 30 men, I became determined to prove the coach wrong. A year later, he told me about the Junior Olympics, which was introducing women’s boxing for the first time. He suggested I quit school to train full-time for the qualifiers. I was all in, but my parents weren’t. My dad refused to support it, saying, “I’m not paying for your broken nose.”

The coach, however, was exceptional — he had even trained the renowned Bulgarian heavyweight boxer Kubrat Pulev. Despite his support, I wasn’t sure. Then, while performing as a backup dancer at a concert, I fell and broke my left arm — my strongest in boxing. That accident felt like a sign. I decided to let go of boxing.

A few weeks later, I got a job offer in Dubai. It all started to make sense — why I wasn’t meant to pursue boxing. I moved to Dubai and spent the next 10 years modelling, grateful for a path that didn’t involve a broken nose.

Photo: 1 — Mox Santos; 2, 3 — Zulham Siregar;

Meanwhile, my mom has continued her career in gymnastics and choreography. Initially, she worked at a gymnastics company, but she quickly transitioned to Diverse Choreography, a renowned school run by a British couple. They prepare thousands of talented kids in ballet, drama theatre, and dance, many of whom go on to pursue careers in London musicals or European universities. The school's annual performance takes place at the Dubai Opera.

As for me, I realised I wasn’t ready to follow in my mom’s footsteps. Coaching requires a different mindset and passion, and I wasn’t there yet. Instead, I grabbed every small opportunity to learn about the city — from stilt walking to ribbon dancing at mall events — until I found an agency, did my test shoots, and officially registered as a model. So many times, I have been stopped on the streets of Sofia by agency bookers convincing me to register as a model, and I always thought it was lame. It is amazing how some things are meant for you — they keep chasing you over and over until you finally align with the Universe’s plan.

Photo: Lava's personal archive

— So you mentioned moving to Dubai with your mom. What about your dad?

— My dad is in Bulgaria, and we visit each other often. My parents aren’t separated — they are still together — but they haven’t lived together for 15 years. Yes, it is hilarious!  My dad has always been a bit of a visionary, especially in the years following socialism in Bulgaria when so many new opportunities began to emerge. For example, he was the first person to open thrift shops in Bulgaria. I still vividly remember him bringing home massive piles of secondhand clothes from Germany when I was a child. He eventually opened five thrift shops across Bulgaria right after socialism ended. Growing up surrounded by thrifted clothes left a lasting impression on me — I have been a lifelong thrifter ever since! It is like I was born into that culture, and to this day, thrifting is one of my favourite hobbies and what I call my "sightseeing" whenever I travel.

Then there was his bakery. It is funny because, at first glance, a bakery seems completely unrelated to me or my interests. But now, here I am, years later, working on marketing for a bakery. It feels like such a full-circle moment, even though I never thought about it that way before.

Another one of his ventures, albeit a shorter-lived one, was a CD store. My dad’s store primarily sold albums by Bulgarian artists.

Looking back, I can see how all these different businesses were reflections of my dad’s adaptability and resourcefulness. And it is amazing how, in unexpected ways, parts of his ventures have influenced me. Life has a funny way of connecting the dots, doesn’t it?

— Many years ago, you mentioned that you always tried to connect everything you do with Bulgaria. Is that still the case, or has that changed over time?

— Yes, things have changed a lot. I think the more time I spend in Dubai, the more I recognise myself as a third-culture kid. While Bulgaria will always be a part of me, I can’t fully call it “home” anymore. Dubai feels like home after 14 years of living here. Now I am also investing energy into growing a community of like-minded third-culture kids here.

— One more question about your childhood — to connect it to what you are doing now with FLAVA LAB and THE KARAK. What is the story behind this box?

— It all started with some nail polishes that had dried out and weren’t usable anymore. Instead of throwing them away, I decided to use them to write things and paint symbols that I liked. One of them was Amy Lee from Evanescence — I was a huge fan of hers (along with rock bands like Placebo and System of a Down) during my teenage years. The snail symbolised something about myself — I am a bit of a slow-paced person, even though my life can feel like constant action.

Instagram: @lava_ilieva

If I had to describe that box from another perspective, it really represents what I love to do: taking something that is essentially garbage and transforming it into something meaningful and valuable. I think this mindset comes from my dad and his thrift shop days, combined with my practical Capricorn nature. I am all about recycling, reusing, and making something out of nothing. For me, the real challenge and satisfaction lie in creating something valuable with minimal resources. It is not about having the best materials or the biggest budget — it is about creativity, practicality and skills.

This philosophy is part of why THE KARAK survived its most challenging phase — budget optimisation! It also pushed us to learn new skills quickly to solve problems when hiring an expert wasn’t an option.

And, of course, we are beyond grateful for our friends — THE KARAK family — who stepped in and helped us figure things out in so many ways.

— Now, FLAVA LAB and THE KARAK — how did your collaboration with Faizal come about? And sorry, but I have to ask — which came first, the creative partnership or the personal relationship?

— Creative partnership came first! I met Faizal at a party, and we got talking about what he does. He showed me some of his work and I remember being struck by his aesthetics and his skill set. So I told him about a project I was involved in at the time — strictly from a professional perspective — and we started working together. From there, things naturally evolved into something more personal. We explored a relationship, but at the same time, THE KARAK became an even bigger part of our connection.

It is a unique relationship because our work has become so intertwined that it is hard to imagine not continuing it. We depend on each other professionally in a way that feels natural and complementary. It is challenging, yes, but also incredibly rewarding.

We are complete opposites in the best way. He brings everything I am missing professionally, and I bring everything he is missing.

— In your professional collaboration — let’s take THE KARAK as the biggest example — how do you divide responsibilities? Who excels at what?

— When it comes to our work dynamic, it is hard to pin down exact roles — everything is so layered. It is always a mix of operations, event curation, and creative execution, all blending together.

For instance, when we are organising an event, his responsibilities often revolve around curating the music artists, ensuring the sound checks are done and even hosting the panel talks. On my side, I focus more on the brands, local designers, curating The Baqala, the panel talks — deciding on the topics, matching speakers, and ensuring the lineup makes sense in terms of flow and synergy.

When it comes to content, we share the load: he is the one creating the content (like announcements for artists), and I am the one handling the social media accounts. For brand activations, I typically take the lead in finding the right brands, deciding what their activations will look like, and how they will fit into the event. In contrast, his focus might be on making sure these ideas align with the overall creative vision.

To describe it more simply, Faizal is the dreamer, and I am the pragmatist. He has this incredible ability to imagine bold, creative ideas and is driven by his strong creative ego to see them happen exactly the way he envisions them. His excitement is about the art itself and making sure it is as powerful and impactful as possible.

I, on the other hand, focus on how to bring his vision to life in a practical way that makes sense. I am the one asking, “How are we going to make this happen? Will this generate money for us? Will it create opportunities for artists? Is this sustainable?” I am always thinking in terms of timelines, budgets, and the bigger picture.

In a way, our dynamic works because we cover for each other. His dreaming balances my practicality, and my practicality ensures his dreams have a solid foundation to become reality. It is a challenging but rewarding partnership that constantly pushes us to grow.

— Last year, as FLAVA LAB, you both worked on a major project, Kursi, at 25hours Hotel. Is there anything you are working on now that you would like to highlight?

— FLAVA LAB is an exciting part of what I do, but it is more of a passion project than a fully structured business. With THE KARAK taking up so much of our time, FLAVA LAB serves as a creative outlet — a space where we take on projects whenever inspiration strikes or opportunities come our way. It is a place where we can bring all the things we want to create under one umbrella.

My interest in production started years ago, thanks to my mom. For about five or six years, when she wasn’t an acrobatic coach, she worked at a music production company in Bulgaria. During that time, she became involved in music video production and would take me along to the sets. I was crazy about the entire process — the makeup artists, location scouting, wardrobe choices, and the hectic pace of shooting within a tight deadline. I would start giving some suggestions on set, and my mom would pass them on to the directors. Back then, it was the first time I had got to choose the artist's outfit. Quickly realised how much I loved the creative chaos of production.

Later, during my modelling career, I found myself drawn to the other side of the camera. In the last few years, I became that “annoying model” who would suggest angles and locations to photographers. I was also the one people would call to book, often with added requests: "Could you bring your own outfits? Could you find another model to shoot with? And, oh, could you recommend a location that doesn’t require a permit?"

Over time, I realised I was more interested in the production process than being in front of the camera. This conclusion shaped the vision for FLAVA LAB: a space for producing creative content, from video campaigns, fashion photography to anything else.

When I started FLAVA LAB, I focused on pre-production, where I naturally excel — organising shoots, booking studios, artists and models, creating mood boards, and managing logistics. Then, I met Faizal, who turned out to be incredible in post-production. I first hired him for a behind-the-scenes video and was blown away by his skills in editing and post-production. His talent far surpassed even seasoned professionals, and I realised we made an ideal team: I handle pre-production, and he handles post-production. Together, we could bring creative visions to life seamlessly.

JOKES ASIDE Collection "What's Next?"; The Aurora Collection By Savanna Creations Campaign (photo: Deyan Milenkov); "Kursi" by FLAVA LAB & Ali Cha'aban

In 2024, FLAVA LAB worked on some exciting projects, launching campaigns for a Spanish brand, a French brand, a local couture brand — Savanna Creations and the local label Jokes Aside. We mostly collaborate with small to mid-sized brands, handling everything from e-commerce photography to lookbook and full campaign video shoots — often wrapping it all up in just one day.

FLAVA LAB remains a passion project, but it is one that we approach with enthusiasm whenever we take on work. It allows us to experiment creatively while delivering quality content for our clients. Whether it is producing campaigns, designing furniture, or anything else we dream of, FLAVA LAB is a space where we can explore ideas and bring them to life.

— I have heard from many people that you are incredibly hardworking. Were there any moments in your life when you hit rock bottom, felt completely burned out, and had to push through?

— Oh yes. For me, Dubai has always been a mix of excitement and challenges, but it is also a place where I have reached burnout. There have been moments when I have asked myself, “Do I really want to live in Dubai for the rest of my life?” That’s when I pack a suitcase and try to find another place that feels like home. But every time, I realise my friends and family are here, and I find myself coming back. There have been two major times when this cycle took me to interesting places.

The first was when I ended up in the New Eden Retreat Centre in the Netherlands. I attended Heart IQ and Insights to Intimacy courses, which were transformative experiences for me. It was such a different pace from my life in Dubai — calm, reflective, and deeply connected to the inner self.

The second time, I found myself in Bali. I lived near The Yoga Barn, immersing myself in Holotropic breathwork, yoga, cocoa ceremonies and exploring deeper, mystical aspects of life.

These journeys have been pivotal in helping me find balance, even if they eventually led me back to Dubai. They allowed me to step away, reflect, and reconnect with a part of myself that sometimes gets lost in the fast-paced energy of the city.

— Thank you for sharing. I have also heard from friends in Dubai that in the hustle of chasing their goals, everyone is so deeply immersed in their work that they barely get to know each other properly. Is that true?

— You said this in a very nice way! Haha!

Dubai has this unique way of making you obsessed — especially if you are a foreigner. It is like the city makes you believe that your dreams, particularly material ones, can finally come true. Of course, if your dreams are about having a peaceful life in nature, you wouldn’t choose to be here! But if your dreams are material — like building wealth, achieving success, or living a luxurious lifestyle — Dubai makes you feel like they are all within reach.

This obsession can be all-consuming. You put all your focus on achieving your goals and far less on building genuine connections with people. It is like everyone you meet becomes part of the equation for “How do I get closer to my goals?” It creates this sort of madness.

When I first came here, I will admit, I had a bit of that fever, too. The drive, the ambition, the constant focus on achieving material success — it is almost contagious. That madness faded for me, but I see it in people who are new to Dubai — those who arrived a year or two years ago. They often overlook so many other important aspects of life in their relentless pursuit of success.

People born and raised here don’t have that fever. For them, Dubai isn’t a shiny new opportunity — it is home. They don’t spend their days at Dubai Mall fountains or yacht parties chasing opportunities for the fastest way of getting rich. They live simple lives — visiting their favorite local café, raising their families, and enjoying their daily routines.

It is this stark contrast that makes life in Dubai so fascinating — and, at times, overwhelming.

THE KARAK. Photo: Lava's personal archive

— Since you are so involved in THE KARAK and always supporting the creative scene in Dubai, you have probably got a good sense of the biggest challenges. What do you think are the main struggles creatives here deal with?

— There is no real media coverage for artists who aren't Emirati. And for us, that is the main mission of THE KARAK: creating a platform to give artists who practice their art here in the region, no matter where they are originally from, the kind of recognition they wouldn’t normally get.

In Dubai, if you are not local, you will never get that kind of exposure through official media channels — TV, mainstream news, anything like that. So we have to create our own spaces, our own platforms, just to say, “Hey, we’re here!”

Because it is not just about the people who have “made it,” the ones who got the Golden Visa or fit a certain mould. It is about the people who have built their lives here, who put in the work, who started businesses — but still don’t get passports, don’t get featured on TV, and don’t have a voice in mainstream media. That is the gap we are trying to fill.

— Now, a fun question — I read somewhere that your guilty pleasure is reading about star configurations, right? Tell me more about that, please!

— True! I think the fact that my mom started travelling for work in different countries when I was very young created some deep-seated traumas for me. For example, the first time she went to America, I was around five years old. She left for a competition with the Bulgarian acrobatics team, and none of us knew she wouldn’t be coming back right away. While she was there, she got a job offer, and suddenly, my dad had to tell me, “Your mom is staying in the USA” As a child, I was left wondering, “What’s going on? Where’s my mom? Is she ever coming back?” That feeling of confusion and uncertainty left a mark on me.

This scenario repeated a few times as I grew older, with her travelling to America for different periods of time. By the time I was a teenager, I found myself looking for something — anything — to explain how I felt. I needed a framework to help me understand life and my emotions.

I still vividly remember the first book I ever bought for myself — not for school, but purely because I was curious. It was an astrology book.

I don't like small talk. In 7th grade I started asking my classmates questions like, “What’s your ascendant? Where was Venus when you were born?” and they would look at me like I was speaking another language. Astrology became my way of understanding myself and the world around me. Over time, I explored both Western and Vedic astrology. I wouldn’t say I have found the ultimate truth or one “right” system, but that is part of what I love about it — there is no clear answer. It is like an endless puzzle where you have to keep going deeper and deeper, and that mystery is what keeps me hooked.

For me, astrology is a belief system, a poetic way of interpreting life and healing myself. It is still something that shapes how I view the world, helping me make sense of the things that don’t always have a straightforward explanation.

— Did you ask Faizal for his birth date and time?

— For sure! We are total opposites — I am Earth and Water, while he is Air and Fire. During the pandemic, with more free time on my hands, I started doing astrological readings of my friends’ birth charts.

I am not an astrologer — I don’t claim to be. But I genuinely enjoy taking the time to dig deeper. I love it simply for the joy of it, and I know I never want to turn it into work.

by Alexandra Mansilla

Lava Ilieva: 'Anyone Сan Create With Money. True Skill Is Turning ‘Garbage’ Into Value'

10 Feb 2025

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by Alexandra Mansilla

Lava Ilieva: 'Anyone Сan Create With Money. True Skill Is Turning ‘Garbage’ Into Value'

10 Feb 2025

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