At the risk of revealing my advanced age, I pose the question: When are those cool sixties styles I loved when I was a boy – Peter Max ceramics, Merimekko bedsheets and avocado or burnt orange stoves and refrigerators – ever going to be in fashion again? Haven’t they become classics at long last?

If, like me, your idea of perfection is the animation of the Beatle’s Yellow Submarine movie, you should get your ass over to Skeppsholmen and the gardens and parks outside of Moderna Museet, Stockholm’s museum of modern art. In an oblong of grass on a hill stands a set of polychrome statues – all breasts and eyes and beaks and trunks and thick legs – outsized and childlike creatures from the imagination of sixties icon Niki de Saint Phalle.

The nine beasts are accompanied by seven rusty constructions of wheels and water spouts (by Saint Phalle’s husband, Yves Tinguely), all living together as if in some kind of symbiotic sixties groovy relationship – the piece is called The Fantastic Paradise. I’ve probably walked past this particular hill fifty times, and each time I have to stop and admire and ponder. Can something this big be considered whimsical? And how come I’m the only one ever looking at these pieces?

If Picasso is more your style, there’s another garden tucked away to the far right of the entrance of the museum. Inside, Pablo’s own larger-than-life sculptural version of Luncheon on the Grass awaits – and in his version, both the women and the men are naked. Yowza! You can even sit on the terrace with a glass of wine from the café if you find yourself in need of sustenance after all that walking and admiring and pondering.

(As long as you’ve made it this far, you also may as well make the extra effort to check out Moderna Museet. It does have, after all, Sweden’s best collection of art. Go ahead, you can do it.)