I’ll never forget the morning I noticed it — a bright orange blotch glaring up at me from my favorite gray towel. It looked almost neon, completely out of place, like someone had swiped it with a glowing marker. I brushed it off, assuming it was rust or a strange spill I’d forgotten about. I tossed it in the wash with extra detergent, fully expecting it to disappear. It didn’t.

Within weeks, more towels followed, then pillowcases, even a shirt or two. My bathroom began to look like it had been decorated with orange confetti. I felt confused and a little frustrated—how could this be happening over and over? That’s when I started searching for answers and discovered a surprising truth: this wasn’t a stain at all. The most common culprit? Benzoyl peroxide, an ingredient found in many acne treatments. Instead of staining fabric, it bleaches the color out, leaving behind permanent orange or yellowish patches where skin or residue came into contact.

But that’s not the only cause. Water high in iron, especially from wells or older pipes, can leave rusty marks that worsen with repeated washes. Certain haircare products, self-tanners, or tinted shampoos can transfer subtle pigments that only show up after drying. Even cleaning sprays with hidden bleach or peroxide can cause towel discoloration long after you’ve forgotten you used them.

What helped me most was prevention: I now use white towels when applying skincare, let products fully dry before touching fabric, use older towels for hair treatments, and installed a water filter to reduce iron levels. I’ve also learned to “read” the marks—large uneven patches usually mean bleaching, while small scattered dots often signal mineral deposits. And once the bleaching has occurred, it’s permanent. In those cases, I either repurpose the towel for cleaning, dye it a darker shade, or fully bleach it for a fresh, uniform look. Since discovering the cause, I’ve gone from replacing towels frequently to preserving them for much longer. Now, every time I see an orange patch, I don’t panic—I understand it. And sometimes, understanding something strange is the first step toward not letting it bother you anymore.