Funnily enough, the only scary situations I have had were not while wearing tight clothes and pissed, but with men I thought I knew and could trust (mercifully both times I managed to talk my way out of the situation to safety, but this was luck, not judgement, that these two men chose not to become physically violent). Statistically, given that most rapes are carried out by men who know the victim, many of whom, sadly, are actually in relationships, the best thing you can do for your daughter is to teach her that she has a right to bodily autonomy, that when she says no a decent man will accept that as meaning no, and to get away from sleazeballs who don't take this attitude as soon as possible. Sadly, on its own this may not be enough, because some rapists superficially look and behave (at least on first meeting) like ordinary members of the human race, but at least it means that if she ever has the misfortune to meet one, she won't end up trying to normalise his behaviour, staying in a relationship with someone who rapes her, or worrying that those closest to her will engage in victim blaming if she tries to turn to them for support.
And I'm trying to bring my son up to know that when someone asks you not to touch them/tickle them/play fight with them, you have to stop, and when you ask them to stop, they should do, and if you don't want to be kissed by Great Aunt Aggie or sit on Uncle Theophillus's knee, you don't have to (he's only 4 so that's as far as the complexities can go at this point.
Bagel, I'm so sorry for what happened to you. Please believe me that it really wasn't your fault in any way. I remember discovering a friend of mine had been so drunk at a party, that when she gave the taxi driver her address, she gave an old one (I wasn't there to keep an eye on her as I was trying to sort out an aggressive gate-crasher, so didn't realise how badly drunk she was when she staggered out the door :( ). She went to the old address, rang the bell, and the young man who lived there saw that she was incapably drunk, needed looking after. He put her to bed in his bed and slept on the sofa, gave her a cup of coffee the next morning and sent her on her way unharmed. I just wanted to share this with you to underline that it wasn't your behaviour that was at fault, it was just really bad luck that you happened to meet a rapist at the wrong time. We can't live our whole lives on the assumption that every man we meet might be a rapist - we'd have no social life, never be able to be alone with a male friend, never be able to let our hair down by having a few drinks. And it would be grossly upsetting and insulting to the vast majority of men who are actually lovely, ordinary members of the human race.