When you marry a military man his world comes with a rule book, a seasoned wife once told me, complete with rules, ranks and regulations. But I haven’t found the page that covers what to do when your gown catches fire at the winter formal. More on that in a moment.

Military balls are a little like Halloween parties. Things are not quite what they appear to be. At the ball you sip, instead of gulp. You glide, instead of walk. You sit straight, instead of slouch. You are a vision in chiffon exuding grace and elegance despite heels too high and a purse too small. Does anyone really need to know you arrived in a minivan? Or that you consider going to Chuck E. Cheese’s a big night out?

With everyone wearing their Oscar Night best — and sporting matching behavior, is it any wonder blunders in this choreographed environment are magnified and forever remembered?

Some things are a given at a military ball. The mystery meat on your plate masquerading as prime rib and the malfunctioning microphone are like ants at a picnic, unwanted but expected. But the guy who strips off his jacket and clears the floor with his eighth-grade break-dancing moves or the poor soul who chop sueys the general’s name before his speech — those things I call Ball Bloopers.

Just ask my friend who was so excited to receive the Molly Pitcher Award, (a necklace with a pendant the size of a half-dollar) at her formal. But then came the boober — oops, I mean blooper: “The colonel dropped it down the front of my dress, and proceeded to start fishing it out when he realized what he was doing,” she said. “I still have the snapshots of two very red-faced people.”

Unless you’re in the color guard or band, you don’t want to be the main attraction in the ballroom. My own red-faced moment happened at a summer formal several years ago when five of us showed up in the same gray-sequined gown.

“Let me guess, you hit the sales rack at JC Penney for $99.95?” one of the five asked. My only regret is not having a camera to capture the moment. We would have made lovely bridesmaids.

Sometimes only a few people are witness to bloopers, which always means the wrong few people. At her formal, a friend learned fertility drugs and wine don’t mix, after she told her husband’s former commander what a bore he was.

“Happy to know they don’t wear side arms at such events, as darling husband would have gladly killed me on the spot,” she said. “Needless to say, it is regrettable in the extreme to look your best and behave your worst.”

I spoke with Jacqueline Whitmore, the founder of The Protocol School of Palm Beach, (www.etiquetteexpert.com) who is a leading authority and author in the etiquette and protocol industry. I asked Ms. Whitmore how one at the center of a blooper should best recover. She shared some excellent advice: use humor when possible and apologize as soon as possible.

“Women tend to be over apologetic and it can be a downfall,” she said. “Apologize once and change the subject.”

And my personal favorite: “Don’t dwell on it,” she said. “My grandma from Georgia used to say, ‘The more you stir it, the more it’s going to stink.’”

In the case of my own gown gaffe, Ms. Whitmore said such situations call for humor and grace with a “We all have great taste” comment. She also recommended personalizing a gown with a scarf, opera gloves or sewn-on accessories.

But what does one do if your gown is ablaze?

While waiting for her husband to park the car, a Mindy Fortier smelled smoke then felt someone beating on her backside. “YOU’RE ON FIRE!” a woman yelled. Her long gown had sparked after hitting a candle luminary. “The dress was burned up the back,” she said. “But quick thinking from a true friend, and a stapler, perfume and a few glasses of wine — the ball went on and all had fun.”

Later that night as the general got up to speak, he remarked, “Mrs. Fortier, before I start tonight, I would like to point out all the fire exists. Just in case.”

What does Ms. Whitmore think? “The woman on fire had a great sense of humor,” she noted. “Humor is the only way she could have handled it short of leaving the event. You have to make the best of it.”

If any of you ever find yourself as the fire belle of the ball, Ms. Whitmore suggests: “Keep your back to the wall. You could also make a comment on how your dress matches the charbroiled steak.”