Wolf has yet to be seduced by the dancing woman in the red dress or, sadly, the dollar bills flying up to heaven (which I would find almost irresistible were I he, which is perhaps a marvellously concise illustration of just why I am not). Neither does he capitulate on their use for personal correspondence. "I believe I have never received emojis," he continues. "But I might be wrong. I can only guess what my wife would think if I started sending them to her."
The FT leader writer (and occasional style contributor) Robert Armstrong is similarly uncompromising, although he does confess to the occasional exchange of the smiling poop emoji with his daughter. "If you are not very familiar with your interlocutor, always avoid reaching for faux-familiarity/humour/casualness in emoji — as in all things, it risks making you look like a huge tool."
Which is all very drear and grown-up of everybody (lone-tear-running-down-face emoji) as the emails are ratcheting up again, and my brother has sent me a text that is just crying out for an underscored 100. Are they really so uncool?
I approach Alexandra Shulman for a final arbitration. As the 58-year-old editor of British Vogue, she is the gatekeeper of all that is chic, and very good on guidelines. But as a woman who works in fashion, I am hoping she might be more tolerant of their whimsical, frivolous appeal.
"I don't mind the use of emojis, though I can't bring myself to send them — they seem a little too playground," says Shulman. Which does offer us addicts a very small crumb of tolerance (cue bulging bicep, victory sign and party popper icons). She does, however, reserve one area in which all emojis should be verboten. "I totally draw the line at emojis being used to accompany Instagram feeds when someone has died," she concludes. "I don't feel a broken heart is an appropriate way to demonstrate grief."
I think we can all thumbs-up that.